


Rumor Has It

by TheWonderYears



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Blood and Violence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2019-07-24 18:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 120,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16180859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWonderYears/pseuds/TheWonderYears
Summary: Naruto had no choice but to leave his old life behind, but when someone he’s close to goes missing deep in the underbelly of his old stomping grounds, he'll have to follow the trail of lies and blood to find what—or who—he’s looking for. The mess he left behind didn’t settle with his dust, but it’s a good thing that he’s got bigger things to worry about, isn’t it?In this city there's no such thing as retirement. Naruto knows this, but he already fucked up and convinced himself otherwise.There’s a difference between going back and coming home.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Here's a teaser of a new story for you guys! I love this idea but it's been slower coming than some other stories I wrote, but I didn't want what I have finished to grow stale for me so I'm posting early to motivate myself to write more! Tell me what you think and I promise I'll update soon!

* * *

**One.**

* * *

 

“Memories do not always soften with time;

Some grow edges like knives.”

 

—Barbara Kingsolver, _the Lacuna_

* * *

 

**A.**

 

One train ride left before he’s standing in front of Konoha once more. This time, he’s patiently waiting to enter instead of desperate to leave. No figurative bandana-on-a-stick thrown over his shoulder like last time, tears in his eyes, swallowing hard as his heavy legs carried him far away from here. This time, there’s a repurposed gym bag dangling on his fingertips and the other hand in his pocket fists a small knife in case anyone gets any ideas.

 

Wait, it was like that last time, too, wasn't it?

 

Hmm.

 

He’d been pretty fucked up then, just eighteen and lost in the world. It’s not like he’s doing much better now, or anything, but times were definitely tougher back in the day. At least, he thinks so; time has a funny way of blurring the edges of pictures he swore were once clear.

 

Now he’s twenty four. Still too young for everything he’s seen and done in this rotten city, but at least he feels like his head is on straight.

 

Or, it’s not, seeing as how he’s willing to go back into the lion’s den without hesitation at all. Old habits die hard, don’t they?

 

But he owes it to Haku. If Naruto would have just listened to him this wouldn't be necessary. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way Haku didn’t deserve to die like a dog in unfamiliar territory like Naruto believes he did. Some stupid part of him still thinks that maybe, just maybe, he could be okay. A larger, wiser part knows that’s not the case. It doesn’t matter though. He’s going to find out what happened and then he’s going to take care of it.

 

That's what he's always done and that's what he's going to do. Not the way he usually would, though, before. Not that, never that.

 

He worked hard and reinvented as best he could—buried his old self, is more like. He dug a deep hole for those parts of him and poured himself into it. Tore up the map so he couldn't find the disturbed earth again and plugged his ears and covered his eyes until he stumbled out of the woods with bare, bruised feet.

 

He's not going to go back to who he once was, even if he's forced to stare the cause of it in the face once more.

 

Naruto stands on inbound platform lucky number seven, loose cigarette in hand, sneer on his lips and eyebrows pushed low. His black hoodie covers his wild hair but that’s not really enough to be incognito. His face is a bit...unmistakable. If he was smart, he would have worn sunglasses. No one’s ever really called him smart, though, so there’s that.

 

He’s looking at the case file one more time before he tears it to shreds and leaves it on the tracks. There’s no way he’s taking something like this in with him because he just can’t risk it.  Konoha’s even more of a shithole now, as he’s heard, and he wants to make it two steps into town before dropping fucking dead from what he knows, alright?

 

He doesn’t have colors anymore, so there’s no telling how much he’s going to stick out like a sore thumb.

 

It’s not like the people here will have forgotten him. It hasn't been nearly long enough for that. If he’d even be forgotten at all. His blood dots the streets just as much as anyone else’s here. It’s hard to say if the echoes of him would ever truly disappear.

 

Not to mention that, just as his absence was sorely felt, his reappearance is just as likely to turn heads.

 

His mother will be happy to see him, at least. He thinks that's enough to look forward to, all things considered.

 

Now, I know what you're thinking: what's this all about? Why so nervous? Well, he'll explain all that as best he can soon enough so sit tight and get ready for a ride, alright?

 

Speaking of rides, his just pulled up. The old beat up train rattles in a way that concerns him as it screeches to a stop. Naruto hesitates as the door breaks open and drones of stone-faced strangers spill out like a fork in the road around his still form. He gets some annoyed looks but thinks nothing of them.

 

Can he do this? _Really_ do this? It was hard enough getting out the first time and he no doubt burned every bridge in his wake with his hasty departure. He doesn't want to be caught in the web again. Doesn't want to see his whole world crash down around his ears again. But he _owes_ it to Haku after everything they've been through, so he spurs his locked legs forward and takes a seat before he can change his mind.

 

Fuck. This is a mistake.

 

No, it's not. He has to. He _has_ to.

 

He's stronger now, more sensible. More in control. As long as he focuses on the task at hand he can get out of this with as few cuts and scrapes as possible. That's what he's telling himself and he prides himself on at least halfway believing it.

 

The train pulls off, lurching so suddenly that Naruto starts and grips his seat to steady himself. God, when did he become so jumpy? He hasn't lost his edge that much, right?

 

He shouldn't make it so obvious that he doesn't really want to be here because someone's sure to pick up on it. People can and will use that to their advantage.

 

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the days to come. In and out. One breath, two breaths, three. There, that's better. He's calmed down a little, settling into his seat with a sigh as he lets his head loll back so he can absently stare at the metal bars above.

 

There's some shitty graffiti on the ceiling, drawn in some looping handwriting that spells out obscenities. Naruto can't help but smirk at it, recalling when his own hands were never parted from a spray can. He'd gotten pretty good at doing figures. He's never heard of drawing ability completely disappearing from disuse so he wonders if he can still—

 

Someone is watching him.

 

Naruto’s always been able to tell when eyes are on him and these happen to be burning a hole in the side of his skull. He doesn't look away from the writing above, choosing to focus on it as he subtly figures out what direction the eyes are coming from.

 

It's early as all hell, in both the morning and in his mission, so it'd really suck if someone recognized him right off the bat and went blabbing to the whole town that he's back before he's ready for that.

 

It could be nothing; people stare all the time for a number of reasons. They could be wondering why the random, hooded stranger looks like he's ready to choke someone out so early in the morning, or they could find him attractive and are sneaking looks since they think he's not paying attention.

 

No, that's not it. This gaze is steady, unflinching. Uncomfortable and unnerving. Since Naruto noticed that there were eyes on him they haven't looked away once.

 

Fuck.

 

Naruto slowly lowers his head, pretending to rifle through his bag that's sitting on his left. He looks up subtly while absently touching all the contents, but he sees nobody with a wandering gaze. Those on the left of the nearly empty train are too busy with their headphones or private conversations. He still feels the eyes, though. Must be on the right.

 

To hell with it, Naruto thinks. He stops pretending to search his bag and leans back on his seat, turning his head to his right to search for the culprit. At first, he sees nothing; no one out of place, no one shocked when their eyes meet. He feels his brow furrow in confusion. Did he imagine it? Is he truly so paranoid that he thinks he's being watched when no one is there? Dammit, He's really got to get a handle on himself.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice says. Naruto blinks, swiveling  his head so it’s facing forward.

 

Asuma Sarutobi stands in front of him, arms folded as he leans against a pole, looking older than he remembers. Of course he does; it’s been years—much longer than the time he’s been gone. The former first lieutenant bowed out gracefully once all the kids he was so fond of got old enough for the charges to stick.

 

Did he really just think that? Strike it from the record.

 

“Holy shit.” Naruto hears himself sigh out, relieved it’s not someone else.  Asuma won’t snitch on him. He was always good at keeping secrets, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”

 

The call of home must be really fucking strong to bring him back, too—like a sultry siren or a lighthouse beacon in the dead of night, ushering all the wayward ships back to shore. Naruto doesn’t know what to make of that.

 

“I could ask you the same,” Asuma echoes, sad smile curving on his face. “I heard you left.”

 

Word around here gets everywhere, huh? Even to whatever hole Asuma was hiding in.

 

“Yeah,” Is all Naruto can really say. There’s much more to it than that and they both know it. “I just have a few things I gotta take care of.”

 

Asuma nods, looking away. ”I heard that.” He purses his lips and clicks his tongue before looking at Naruto again. “There’s been some strange disappearances in the area. More than usual, I mean. I’ve been asked to come help out since I know this place like the back of my hand.”

 

Naruto’s heart jumps at that, beating wildly in his chest. He knows all about them, since that’s what Haku was going to investigate before he strangely disappeared, too. But he can’t say that since even if Asuma's familiar—not _safe,_ but certainly familiar— it doesn’t mean he can trust him. Asuma seems to think that he can since he offers the information so freely.

 

“Must be serious if they’d pull you out of retirement.” Naruto replies casually. At least, he thinks it’s casual. Maybe not with the way his palms are sweating.

 

Asuma chuckles. “I was never retired, kid. Just laying low. They still needed someone who was willing to search all the dark corners for the boogeymen. That’s why I’m here now.”

 

“Should you be telling me this?” Naruto asks lowly, wary of any perked ears and thoughtful glances of those around them.

 

Asuma smiles slow, dangerous edge in his eyes. He was never afraid of anyone here and that’s why he’s lasted this long. It’s strangely encouraging. Naruto can’t help but smirk back.

 

“I’m not pointing any fingers just yet, so this is harmless talk between old friends, isn’t it?” Asuma offers with a shrug. Nothing they ever do is harmless, but fair enough.

 

“If you say so.” Naruto replies.

 

“Besides, you’re wearing all black. That’s why I almost didn’t recognize you.” Asuma says quietly, looking him up and down. “Never thought I’d see the day without you in your colors.”

 

Naruto will be hearing that a lot in the days to come, that he’s sure of. He tries not to let it bother him.

 

“Things change.” He says as calmly as he can. It doesn’t work as well as he wishes it did.

 

Asuma nods sagely. “That they do.” and that’s that. He’s sure the other man knows there’s plenty of things he doesn’t want to talk about and that this isn’t the time to do it.

 

They fall into silence, listening to the rattling of the train as it speeds down the tracks. Naruto rubs his hands together nervously, trying to find words to say so their conversation doesn’t end on an awkward note. Despite his own cagey aprehension, it is good to see the man still kicking after so long. He just wishes they could have met under different circumstances.

 

“My stop’s coming up.” Asuma informs before he gets the chance. The next stop is the city center, three stops from where Naruto’s getting off himself. “Tell your mother I said hello. I’ll probably stop in soon to come see her, when I get the chance.”

 

“Will do.”

 

“You _will_  take care of yourself, you understand?” Asuma continues, face stern like he's lecturing him.

 

“If you get into any trouble you know I’m good at getting you out of it, so don’t hesitate to call, alright?”

 

Naruto grins despite himself. “Yeah. Of course.” He says, grunting when Asuma pushes his hood back to ruffle his hair.

 

Naruto hastily pulls the hood back up, hazarding a wary look around, just in case. Asuma rolls his eyes at him.

 

“Take that shit off, will you?” Asuma says around a grin. “You look like a fucking gangbanger.”

 

At Naruto’s dry, slightly mortified look, He laughs heartily.

 

“Too soon?” He quips, as the train screeches to a stop.

 

**…**

 

His mother all but pulls him in the house once he knocks, crushing him into a tight hug. Naruto groans, always amazed by her physical strength, but he grips her back  just as tight.

 

“Jesus Christ, Naruto.” She says, voice slightly choked up. “I thought you were bullshitting me when you said you’d be coming, but here you are.”

 

He can’t tell if she’s happy about that or not.

 

“Yeah, well, I told you why.” She pulls back to stare at his face, searching his eyes for something he’s not sure of.

 

“Yeah.” She echoes, sighing heavily. They pull away from their embrace and she ushers him further in the house.

 

Nothing’s changed much. It’s as he remembers it; brightly colored vases and pots all around the living room, crafted from his mother’s hand. The old, woven blanket thrown on the back of the couch. He used to unravel some of the frayed ends when he was bored as a kid until his mother slapped his hands away. The shiny family crest on the mantel, freshly waxed since Kushina never let’s it get dusty. Yep, just as he recalls it. It brings tears to his eyes but he stamps them down as quickly as they come.

 

“How’s your father?” She asks quietly. Naruto knew it was coming. She always asks whenever they call each other and his father always asks the minute Naruto hangs up the phone. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so sad. They still don’t talk these days unless they have to, since they divorced so long ago, but the love’s still clearly there. A shame, really, but he won’t comment.

 

“He’s fine, as always.” Naruto replies. “He sends his best but he had some other high profile cases he was in the middle of so he regrets not being able to come with me.”

 

No he doesn’t. Not really. His dad wouldn’t step foot back in this town even if you paid him. Not even then, since Haku _was_ getting paid to look into the disappearances and look where that got him, and Minato knows much more than Haku ever could about this place.

 

“I’m sure he does.” Kushina says around a snort, eyes knowing. “You’re still doing that with him? The private investigations?”

 

Naruto nods. They’ve been over this before. His sordid past doesn’t give him that many options for honest work. If his father runs a P.I firm and still lets him in the door then he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take him up on that.

 

“You know I do.” He replies, trying not to get irritated.  

 

“Don’t make that face. I was just wondering since, you know…” She cuts herself off, eyes downcast.

 

“Know what?” He questions. He’s sure he doesn’t like where this is going.

 

“Well, a lot of P.I's work with cops, don’t they? Do you really think that will go over well once people find out?”

 

“I’m **not** a cop.” Naruto protests immediately, almost surprised that he doesn’t burst into flames at uttering the word.

 

“I know you’re not, honey, but the others won’t—”

 

“The _others_ will mind their fucking business because I’m not here for them.” He sneers without meaning to. He collects himself, not trying to yell at his mother since she’s done nothing wrong. She’s right; if his old friends hear about what he does now they probably won’t understand, won’t separate him in their minds from the cops they hate so much.

 

Friends? Is that what they are, still?

 

Kushina sighs, shaking her head. “You know that’s not possible. They’ll want to see you once they hear that you’re back.” She says. Then, quieter. “You should tell him that you’re in town. He won’t want to hear it from someone else.”

 

No. Absolutely fucking not. Not if he can help it.

 

“Maybe later. I’m going to put it off for as long as I can, if I’m honest.” Naruto says instead.

 

“Is that a good idea?” Kushina asks carefully.

 

“Is any of this a good idea?” Naruto retorts, exasperated.

 

His mother chuckles, patting the side of his face fondly.

 

“You got me there.” She says. “C’mon, let’s get you something to eat. You can tell me more about this friend of yours that you’re looking for.”

 

“Okay.” He feels exhausted and he hasn’t done anything today. That’s not a good sign, is it?

 

His mother tuts at him as he walks into the kitchen, sitting him down at the head of the table. He raises an eyebrow at that but she just smiles as her eyes twinkle.

 

She pours him some orange juice and goes to get him a plate. Without turning around, she says, quite snarkily:

 

“Take that hoodie off, honey. You look like some sort of thug.”

 

“Seriously?” Naruto can’t help but say. Is this funny to them? Why does everyone keep saying that? Probably because he does, but whatever. Tch.

 

“What?” His mother says around a laugh. “I’m not allowed to make jokes now?”

 

God, he didn’t think it was possible to regret this anymore than he already did, but it looks like he was wrong.

 

Fuck. This won’t end well, will it?

 

* * *

 

**B.**

 

He’s eight years old the first time he sees someone die.

 

He remembers it clearly, like some old film noir that plays on a half-burned out reel in the bowels of his memory. He was cross legged on the floor playing 8-bit video games when a noise catches his attention.

 

Naruto’s always had a wandering mind, worse than all the other children his age. He notices the bright birds on their branches singing sorrowful songs that  make his ears twitch in curiosity. The smell of cooking wafts in through the cracks in the door and his poor, empty stomach rumbles low. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees a tiny row of soldiers marching back through a fissure in the wall with bounty on their backs. He’s losing at the game because he’s already so distracted when the noise catches his attention.

 

Sasuke sucks his teeth and drops his controller, staring daggers at Neji’s triumphant mug, demanding: “Rematch!” even though he’s lost three times in a row. Their friend is just too good at racing games and Naruto knows it, but Sasuke isn’t used to losing so he’ll try again and again until he gets what he wants.

 

That never changed about him, now that he thinks about it.

 

“Naruto?” Neji questions, making Naruto pulls his eyes away from the door. “You wanna play again?”

 

“Not right now.” He replies, pushing up off the floor. “Hold on a sec, okay?”

  
They aren’t supposed to leave Sasuke’s room unless they have expressed permission but Naruto’s curiosity wants to get the best of him. Something isn’t right. He hasn’t heard a noise like that before and he can’t help but be worried. It sounded like a wounded animal of some sort, but the Uchiha’s don’t have any pets. What could it  possibly be?

 

“What’s wrong?” Sasuke questions, brow screwed up in slight worry. He knows Naruto shouldn’t go out into the hall, either, but he’s not doing anything to stop him.

 

“You didn’t hear that?” Naruto replies, cracking the door open slightly. He peeks his head out but doesn’t hear anything more.

 

“Hear what?” Neji questions, rising so he can stand beside him. Sasuke follows suit and then all three of them are standing in the doorway, unsure.

 

“I don’t know,” Naruto begins. “It sounded like—”

 

They startle when a shout echoes from the floor below, loud and booming.

 

“Fuck!” The voice says, before many more join it, overlapped in hurried tones. Naruto shares a look with his friends and they tiptoe to the railing so they can see the front entrance.

 

Naruto wishes they would have stayed in Sasuke’s room, ignorant to the proceedings below. He would have slept much better for the next few weeks if he had.

 

Neji’s father Hizashi was there, bright red blood blossoming from the hole in his chest. Or, holes, it’s hard to tell from this angle. Naruto hears Neji gasp beside him, ragged and pained just like Hizashi as he struggles for air. He’s vaguely aware of Neji’s legs giving out as he watches through the balustrade. Sasuke sucks in an equally shocked breath while Naruto can do nothing but stare.

 

Fugaku Uchiha rushes out from the living room, dropping down on both knees to support his friend’s head. They’re saying something to each other quietly while the rest of the group scrambles around. One puts pressure on the wound, another calls out orders like a drill sergeant, someone calls the personal doctor and demands she get here as fast as she fucking can. Not that it matters.

 

Naruto sees from his perch when Hizashi mouths something—a name, one that will haunt them all for years, both literally and figuratively— he sees  when Fugaku’s eyes widen with understanding and righteous anger, he sees when Hizashi’s hand that grips Fugaku’s arm goes limp and when the blood bubbles up from his throat as he coughs violently. His eyes roll up and he spots them. Naruto thinks that must have been fatherly instinct, to know that his son was watching. He smiles—warm and whole and loving—

 

And then he’s gone.

 

Neji’s sob is drowned out by the chaos that follows. Naruto feels sick, like he might throw up. He looks at Sasuke and sees tears in the other boy’s eyes, just as he knows there are tears in his. He cannot utter a word, too mortified to speak. He cannot comfort his friend even though he desperately wants to. He’s frozen; in fear, in confusion, in horror.

 

What happened? Who did this? What’s going to happen now? Naruto doesn’t really want to think of that, too rattled by just watching a man he was so close to die, right in front of his face.

 

Something tells him to look up, so he does. Naruto sees that Itachi’s come out of his room as well, looking down at the body on the ground and his father barking out orders to the rest of the group as he gently lays Hizashi down on the stained, wooden floor.

 

Itachi drags his eyes away, face blank, finally noticing the three of them huddled next to each other. His face contorts—with what, Naruto isn’t sure—but then he’s marching over and grabbing them by their collars, all but throwing them back into Sasuke’s room.

 

“Aniki—” Sasuke starts mournfully, but Itachi cuts him off with a sharp look.

 

“Don’t come out until I tell you, do you understand?”

 

Itachi says firmly, sounding much older than his thirteen years. Neji’s crying fully now, body shaking, knees weak. Naruto holds him as best he can, fighting down his own tears. He nods to Itachi, biting down a sob. Itachi nods back, blinking rapidly like he’s willing away his own emotion. Sasuke looks down at his feet but he eventually nods, too.

 

Neji gives no answer but it’s not like Itachi expected one, so he gives them one last sad look before disappearing behind the door.

 

Silence.

 

Save for Neji’s wracking sobs. Sasuke joins them in their heap on the floor, adding his warm arms to Naruto’s as they hug Neji tightly.

 

Naruto doesn’t understand; none of the families are at war right now, so why attack Hizashi unprovoked? And to go after such a high ranking man at that? This must be serious.

 

Of course, he didn’t know how right he was until much later.

 

That’s how they’re found, after the slow crawl of an hour. Every ticking minute sorely felt; curled into a ball on the floor, their game forgotten, sniffling into each other’s shoulders.

 

Fugaku hesitates when he walks in, cursing lowly under his breath. He’s still covered in blood but at least it’s dry now. Neji takes one look at him and bursts into fresh tears again.

 

It’s chaos, after.

 

That’s the only way to describe it.

 

He learns of the new big bad who moved into town, stirring the pot with all these uneasy alliances. Orochimaru he’s called, and he means business. Before him, there was almost enough territory to go around. If it wasn’t your part of town you stayed out of it. Easy. Simple. But that wasn’t enough for Orochimaru. So naturally, everyone got drawn into the fray.

 

Before he and his goons shot Hizashi and Hiashi Hyuga dead in the middle of a Sunday brunch, there were thirteen prominent families in the area.

 

And after the shot heard ‘round the world? There were five.

 

Spring cleaning and all that.

 

The Uchiha, The Shukaku, The Sarutobi, The Kumo, and the Yakushi.

 

That’s all. That’s it. The rest are dead and buried.

 

But that comes later, over the course of the year. Soon after, once the blood is scrubbed off the wood and after Naruto stands beside Neji—holding his hand as the coffins are lowered into the ground— he sees his father pacing, nearly pulling out his hair as he whispers into the phone next to his ear.

 

Naruto teeters in the doorway, unsure if he should enter the living room since he’s not supposed to interrupt while his father’s talking business. But Naruto’s always had a wandering mind, worse than all the other children his age, and his homework can’t distract him from the desperate tones his father is speaking in.

 

His mother’s upstairs, still crying over her own brother who didn’t make the cut while Orochimaru was handing down judgements. She’s just as much Uzumaki as he was but she was spared for being a woman.

 

That’s worse than death for her, to be so disrespected.

 

“Enough, Fugaku.” His father says, running a tired hand through his hair. “No more. I can’t take this. You don’t have to do this.”

 

Minato never was one of them. Naruto didn’t understand why he shacked up with a crime princess if he never had the stomach for it. Why he also became best friends with a beast if he fears his bite. In the end, Naruto never asked and Minato never offered, so there’s that.

Naruto doesn’t hear what Fugaku says but from the look on his father’s face it isn’t what he wants to hear. Minato sits heavily down on the couch, holding his head.

 

“If you do this, will it end?” Minato asks solemnly.

 

All three of them know that it won’t.

 

That won’t stop whatever’s about to happen and Minato knows this, but he has to try anyway. Diplomatic as he is, he’s going to try anyway. Fruitless. A waste of time. Naruto’s chest starts to hurt so he has to look away. He sits down at the kitchen table and tries to focus on his work, but he fails.

 

Two days later a man called Obito is strung up on the overpass, body swaying in the wind. Naruto only knew him in passing so it doesn’t cut as deeply as the Hyugas or his uncle. It’s still horrifying to see him like that, still sears itself in his brain even as his mother quickly covers his eyes and ushers him away.

 

Once a friend of his parents, of Fugaku and Mikoto too, once upon a time. Now branded a traitor and snitch. He apparently gave Orochimaru information and he paid the price for it.

 

To be stuck like a pig and gutted like one, though, Naruto isn’t sure if the cost was worth it.  

 

A week later, Minato packs up and leaves town with barely a word to anyone. Kushina can’t be convinced to go since this is her home and she won’t retreat like that, not in the middle of war. Naruto’s naturally caught in the middle; He cannot leave his mother and can’t abandoned his friends, as they are just as much family as his father is. It doesn’t matter though. His mother’s word is law, so he stays with her. He was happy to at the time, still wistful for the days when his family was whole. But it never would be again, given the circumstances.

 

It isn’t until years later when he thinks: Damn, He should have went with him.

 

That’s how it starts.

* * *

 

**C.**

Naruto wakes in slow degrees; bleary-eyed and confused, yawning wide enough for his jaw to crack in two places. It’s been awhile since he’s been in his old bed and he’d forgotten how comfortable it was. Too comfortable, in fact, since it takes longer than it should for him to realize someone else is in his room with him.

 

His hand is already curled underneath his pillow, fist loosely around his knife. He knows the other person can see that he’s already awake and already alert, so it’s too late for either of them to catch the other by surprise. Why they are here is anyone’s guess; they don’t have security systems around here—since the police won’t come and the nameplate on the mailbox is it’s own screaming alarm.

 

Too early, he thinks. He hates fighting in the morning. Such violence is best done under the cover of night.

 

Naruto turns over sharply right as his mother is placing breakfast on the nightstand. She raises an eyebrow at his readiness and tuts. He can’t help but feel like an idiot but shakes it off easily enough.

 

“You still sleep with something under your pillow?” She asks, shaking her head this way and that in slight disapproval.

 

Naruto yawns again, shrugging. “You don’t?” He retorts pointedly. She purses her lips and mirrors his shrug, the slight smirk on her face is answer enough.

 

“Fair enough.” She says, chuckling warmly. She picks up the plate she made for him and pushes it towards his face. “Now, eat. You’re way too skinny and it’s worrying me.”

 

He can’t help but look down at himself, confused. He has no idea where she sees skinny on him; sure, he was a tad more muscular in his younger youth: all that brick throwing and bat swinging paid off, after all. But he hasn’t lost more than five to ten pounds since that time. He looks back up with a raised eyebrow and Kushina only pushes the plate further into his space. He takes it dutifully like the good son he is, eating big bites to appease her and making a show of how much he’s enjoying it.

 

He’s smart enough to know what this is really about. His mother missed having someone to take care of and now she’s doing to dote on him like there’s no tomorrow. Well, there could be, if he doesn’t play his cards right.

 

His father had done the same when they first reunited, subtly making up for the milestones he missed and treating Naruto like he was made of spun glass. He pretended to be that for his father since he knew that’s what the older man needed to see. A vulnerable and naive boy instead of a hardened, crooked man. At least, he thinks he was pretending. It also could have been all his trauma pushing through the cracks in him after being hidden away for so long.

 

It’s anyone’s guess, at this point.

 

“What’s your plan for today?” Kushina asks, not-so-subtly batting her lashes in the hopes that he’ll spend it with her. Unfortunately, he can’t, even though he’d love to. It’s been forever since he’s taken a vacation, even longer since he’s spent time with his mother in person. But he stayed up half the night mapping out his days to get the most out of them, already planning to ask around town in a low-key way as to not get his head taken off in the middle of the street.

 

Someone here knows something—whether it’s about Haku, the missing people, or both—and Naruto plans to find out just what that is.

 

If only he knew where to start.

 

“I need leads. Something to point me in the right direction or somewhere close to it.” He replies, running a hand through his hair once he’s finished eating.

 

“And you think you’ll get that from the locals?” Kushina says with only slight hints of disgust. Naruto bites down a smirk so he can nod instead. “They’d rather fall on their own swords then tell you anything. Some of them actual might, if you aren’t careful.”

 

“Then I’ll be careful.” He says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like his bones aren’t threatening to vibrate out of his skin at the thought of tiptoeing around this town like some outsider. But he is now, isn’t he? It’s strange to have to remind himself of that when he was so sure of it yesterday.

 

“Alright.” Kushina says slowly, like she doesn’t believe him. It’s okay; he doesn’t believe himself, either. “But I still think you should―”

 

“I know. I might. We’ll see.” He cuts her off, voice clipped. She shakes her head again, sighing heavily.

 

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” She says after a while, clearly giving up. He’s always been stubborn and she’s always been pushy, so it works. “You shouldn’t be out too late after dark, though. I’m sure you heard that―”

 

“Things are worse. I know, mom.” He says, snorting. She tuts and pats the side of his face almost patronizingly.

 

“Oh honey,” She says breathily, shaking her head. “You don’t know the half of it.”

 

**…**

 

He hesitates who to call first, or, if he should call anyone at all. He doesn’t know if most of their numbers are the same or if they’ll want to talk, period. Probably not, since he avoided their calls until they stopped coming and changed his number just to be sure. He told his mother to shred the letters they resorted to writing that nearly begged for him to stop ignoring them. Nearly, since no one in the Uchiha Clan deigns to _beg._  Not Neji, not Shikamaru, not Choji, not Kiba.

 

And certainly not Sasuke.

 

So in the end, he doesn't call any of them. Easy, right? Avoid all of his problems until he can't anymore, that's his motto.

 

Still, that leaves him with nothing. Less than nothing if he's honest. But who is he kidding? None of them would give him any information. Not for free. He'd have to do some dumb favor, some convoluted task just for a handful of breadcrumbs. Or they'd ask for worse and he's just not ready for that.

 

He'll have to figure it out himself, like he's always done. It shouldn't be too hard, right? Find the right people, twist the right arms. This isn't his first rodeo. Naruto's gotten down and dirty for investigations before, but just how far is he willing to go for Haku? Pretty damn far, he thinks, but he can't lose himself in the process. Not this time. Not again.

 

So, he draws up some half-assed plan and decides on his first stop, pausing just long enough to tell his mother where he's going before he sets out. The police won't come looking if he were to go missing, but he tells her just in case.

 

Kushina pauses, looking up from her book as he throws his jacket on and tugs up the hood.

 

“Really?” She asks slowly, looking at him like he's already lost it. “You're gonna trust him to give you something good to go on?”

 

Naruto raises an eyebrow pointedly, grabbing his keys. “If you have a better idea…” He starts fishing for more.

 

His mother shakes her head, sighing heavily.

 

“No, no,” “She says, pursing her lips like she wants to say more. She doesn't, so he won't push. “If you're sure.”

 

He's not sure about anything in his life right now, that's a given.

 

“I am.” He mumbles, lying through his teeth. This is his best bet, so he's going for it.

 

As soon as he steps outside, raising his black-covered arm to shield out the sun's rays, he thinks:

 

Damn, this really won't end well, will it?

 


	2. Two.

* * *

 

**Two.**

 

“Rain fell on the roofs of the just and the unjust,

the saints and the sinners,

those who knew peace and those in torment,

and tomorrow began at a dark hour.”

― Robert R. McCammon, _Mine_.

* * *

 

 

**A.**

Naruto loops the laces around his high tops three times, mindful of the carefully curated scuffs he’s made on his shoes, wondering if there’s enough of them or if he needs to make more. There’s a certain look he’s going for―bummy, his mother calls it, but he and all the other teens think it’s cool.

 

She hates that he buys shoes for the sole purpose of ruining them but at least he’s not using her money anymore. Not that she approves of that either, since the money he gets doesn’t come from the best of places. They don’t talk about such things though, since he’s not sure how and she doesn’t ask because of plausible deniability.

 

Neji sits on the porch steps beside him, silently judging Naruto’s scruffiness like only he can. He should be used to it by now, after all this time, but he’s still going to stare passive-aggressively while Naruto ignores him. His friend is too perm-pressed for his own good. He’d probably iron his bomber jacket if he could, the one they all wear with the matching colors and kanji. But he can’t, so he’ll settle on dragging soft fingers through Naruto’s hair in the hopes of getting it to lay down.

 

“Hey, hey!” Naruto protests, flailing wildly to get him to stop. “I look fine! Stop it!”

 

“No, you don’t.” Neji replies immediately, mean as ever. Naruto sticks his tongue out and springs up to hide behind Shikamaru when Neji reaches for him again.

 

Shikamaru grunts, annoyed at being a human shield, but he doesn’t make Naruto move.

 

“Not everyone wants to be pretty like you, Neji.” Kiba says around a laugh, bounding down the stairs to join Shikamaru and Naruto on the sidewalk. Anyone else would probably lose their jaw if they called Neji pretty to his face but he lets it slide when he’s amongst friends. If that’s what they are at this point. Brothers, really. Family. That’s why Neji only flicks Kiba off and Kiba returns it while Naruto dodges his long nails.

 

“Speak for yourself.” Choji quips from his place by the door, making them all laugh.

 

They’re fifteen this year. Physically at least, since on the streets they’ve already lived forever. It’s hard not to grow up in a day around here. Still, in his eyes they’re kids, even if no one else thinks so.

 

“Where’s Sasuke?” Shikamaru asks after a while, directing the question mainly towards Naruto and Neji since they’re the most likely to know. “He’s late.”

 

Naruto doesn’t know for once, a rarity in itself, shrugging in response. Neji rolls his eyes and sighs, pursing his lips like he’s put out as he says: “Fugaku-san said there was something he needed to discuss with both him and Itachi-nii. He should be here soon.”

 

No one comments on the fact that it’s odd that Neji wasn’t included as well. As a ward of the Uchiha, as one of the last heirs of the Hyuga, he’s rarely left out of important matters. Neji’s constantly sore about which name he should carry, which banner to raise, so they all do their best to tiptoe around delicate subjects like this one.

 

Kiba sucks his teeth, brow low on his face. “He could have told us so we wouldn’t be sitting around here like idiots.”

 

“Since when does he tell us anything?” Shikamaru says dryly. He yawns widely and rolls his shoulders in his jacket, shaking off his sleepiness. Then he says, quieter: “It’s easier if you’re just along for the ride.”

 

They all already are, aren’t they? Since Kiba’s mother brokers weapons almost as good as she does information. Shikamaru’s father doesn’t leave anything behind for the cops to find. Choji’s dad makes sure that all debts are paid in full, while Neji and Naruto are limited editions, remnants of a bygone age, their last names only spoken of in hushed whispers.

 

Heirs to thrones made of blood and shit. Little heathens left to their own devices, running wild and free until someone decides that maybe they’ll carry on the legacy. Maybe. If they make it that far.

 

No one really fucks with them since they wear the Uchiha colors. The red, white and black smeared across their backs like blood. They’re given a wide berth because Sasuke’s scary even if he’s so young.

 

He's not the only one.

 

Kiba's trigger happy, Shikamaru's creative with his punishments, Choji's heavy handed, Neji's well connected and secretly sadistic, and Naruto?

 

Ha. Good luck with that.

 

That's not including the countless other members. Or Itachi. Or Fugaku himself, devil that he is. They have free reign of this town because even the worst demons in the dark have some sense of self preservation.

 

The thieves, the cutthroats, the ne'er-do-wells and vagabonds all cower in front of a bunch of kids. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

 

Not that Naruto cares much. It's how they were raised. It's all that they know. Somehow, that feels like an excuse, even if its the truth.

 

Still, what Shikamaru says sobers them for some reason, like they hadn’t given it much thought. Naruto has. Plenty of times before. It's unusual for one of the others to say such things, though.

 

“Well, that’s fucking depressing, isn’t it?” Kiba says, snorting. “Jeez, such is the life of a lackey, I guess.”

 

They’re more than happy with being just that. It has some stellar perks, let me tell ya.

 

“We’re not lackeys.” Neji protests. Of course he does. His room is the only one lined with gold. It takes everything in Naruto’s power not to say that, not to throw it in his face. It’s not like he chose his situation—It’s not like any of them did—but it’s still glaringly obvious that some of their positions are loftier than others. Naruto doesn’t have the right to say shit anyway; he’s Sasuke’s favorite. That’s a whole different can of worms.

 

And they all know it.

 

“If you say so.” Choji says, his tone light. Another touchy subject for them, one to tactfully avoid.

 

They don’t have to for long, since Sasuke strolls up soon after—hands in his pockets, scowl on his face. He looks positively thunderous.

 

“Here we fucking go.” Shikamaru mumbles under his breath. Naruto pinches his arm as he bites down a smirk. Shikamaru looks at him mischievously but says nothing else.

 

“Hey, chief!” Kiba calls, waving. “Whose knees are we breaking today?” He says it like a joke, but Sasuke’s face doesn’t change so that might actually be the plan.

 

Sasuke’s scowl deepens. “I don’t know his name.” See? “But I know what he looks like. Sakura asked me a favor so we’re gonna go take care of it.”

 

“Of course we are if she’s involved.” Neji says pointedly. “It’s not like you’re under her spell, or anything.”

 

Anyone else would probably lose their jaw if they said something so blunt to Sasuke, but he lets it slide when he’s amongst friends. If that’s what they are at this point. Brothers, really. Family. Or lackeys, like Kiba said. That’s why Sasuke only stares at Neji in challenge and Neji raises his eyebrow in the same while Naruto looks between them.

 

“You bold son-of-a-bitch.” Kiba mumbles, looking impressed. Neji smirks at him and Kiba smirks back.

 

“What did this guy do?” Shikamaru asks, ignoring the both of them.

 

Sasuke glares at those two for a moment before turning his attention to Shikamaru to give his answer.

 

“He hit her. She’s bruised up and scared so yeah, we’re gonna take care of it.” He sends a pointed look over to Kiba and Neji, who both now look surprised and a bit chastised for poking fun.

 

“Hit her?” Naruto echoes, incensed. Sasuke looks to him finally and nods in confirmation. “Well, he’s fucking dead.”

 

Not that he encourages that. It's a figure of speech. They've never _killed_ anyone before. Never even came close. But Sasuke won't let this guy off easy, especially not when his girlfriend's involved, so they're at least going to pay the guy back twice over for the damage he's caused.

 

Sasuke nods with approval. He seems to notice Naruto and Shikamaru’s proximity, since Naruto’s still standing behind him. His mouth says nothing, but the look in his eyes has Naruto stepping away so he can stand next to Sasuke instead, poorly disguising his haste. A common occurrence lately, one that Naruto hates with all his heart.

 

The tension in Sasuke’s body relaxes slightly and Naruto can’t help but let out a shuddering breath.

 

The others pretend like they don’t see.

 

Like they always do.

 

“Let's get going, then.” Neji says, acquiescing. He doesn’t look away like the others. His gaze on Naruto is hard but he won’t speak on what just happened, either.

 

Part of Naruto really wishes he would. He's the only one that could even come close to reigning Sasuke in when he acts like that—like Naruto’s not allowed to be close to anyone other than him, both physically and emotionally — but Neji's  place is at their sides, not in between them. For his safety or his sanity, Naruto can't be sure.

 

Probably both.

 

“Hanabi has a recital tonight and I’m _not_ missing it.”

 

“Yeah, she told me she’d never forgive me if I did.” Naruto adds, chuckling to hide his embarrassment.

 

“We doing this bare hands or with bats?” Kiba asks, eyes dancing. “Please says bats.”

 

Sasuke pretends to think of a moment, eyes taking on that glow they get whenever he gets riled up. There’s always enough excitement to go around, plenty of bad shit for them to get into and not enough time in the day. It makes him look insane.

 

That’s because he is.

 

They do him no good by feeding into it, but, who said any of them are good?

 

This is for a good cause, though. Sakura’s their friend and they’re not going to let some shitty woman beater get away with it. That’s what Naruto tells himself, anyway. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.

 

“Any objections?” Sasuke says, quite diplomatically. He isn’t so like his father; he lets them keep their individuality, lets the have their own opinions. Lets them protest and rebel as long as it doesn’t go too far. Most times he has the last say, but he lets them have their differing views regardless.

 

A benevolent king, when the subjects are loyal.

 

“None.” Neji replies, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

 

“How primitive.” Shikamaru drawls wryly. “I’m in.”

 

“Fine by me.” Choji says at the same time.

 

“Yes!” Kiba grins, bounding back up the stairs to go retrieve the weapons of choice.

 

Naruto doesn’t have to say anything because they know he’ll agree. He always does with Sasuke. There’s never any question of that.

 

He’s down. Always.

 

Always has been, always will be. It'd take a hell of a lot to change that.

 

Even if he hesitates sometimes, even if he thinks the edge is getting closer, even if sometimes he wonders if they've already fallen over it— but when he looks at Sasuke's back as the other boy leads them forward, he thinks:

 

Yeah, this is where he's meant to be.

 

* * *

**B.**

There's a dinky bar nestled into a corner on 31st and Grove that’s seen way better days. After all these years Naruto doesn't know the name of it. Maybe because the sign’s been missing for as long as he can remember — old, rusted hinges that still _creak_ when it's a bit too windy — or maybe it never had one.

 

Both are possible, since the lazy bastard who runs it never got around to fixing the sign, so who's to say he he ever got around to naming the place, either?

 

It's Naruto's best bet, though, since Jiraiya always has an ear to the streets. He's like every old bartender in an RPG; you pick enough of the right options and he'll blab about the whole town.

 

It seems fitting, since Naruto's on a quest.

 

The bell above the door dings softly as he enters, alerting the inhabitants to his presence. Not that there are many inside at this hour: it's only a quarter past noon so only the hardcore drunks are here this early. Or those that like a shitty bar breakfast that's barely more than an afterthought.

 

The place just opened, so Naruto can get to Jiraiya before he gets too busy or distracted like he's bound to get.

 

Jiraiya's a friend of the family, just like most of the old heads around here. It's hard not to see him as a grandfatherly type even though he's far from it. He was around for most of Naruto's teachable moments: riding a bike, shaving his first scraggly beard, and hot-wiring a car.

 

The duplicity of man.

 

He was never one to have colors since it would serve the old man no good. His place is neutral territory, a demilitarized zone. No one would dare to start a shootout in Jiraiya's place since they'd probably catch a bullet from the 12-gauge that hides underneath the bartop. Everyone knows it's there and everyone knows how good Jiraiya is with it, so no one's too keen on taking any chances.

 

Still, Naruto can't be so sure that he can trust him. Sure the old man's always been pretty impartial and nonjudgmental, but when Naruto skipped town he left more than a few people behind.

 

It was his mother who did her best to raise him, the shopkeepers who always slipped a little extra in his bag because he made them laugh during an otherwise boring shift, the teachers who wanted him to make something of himself instead of falling into Konoha's trap, or the friends who supported him even when they didn't agree with what he was doing and who he was doing it with.

 

So he can't be sure if his return will be so welcome for _anyone_ , since he made it so clear that he couldn't wait to escape before the dust cleared.

 

Jiraiya looks up from the bar top he was absently scrubbing, eyes dragging away from the erotic book that rarely leaves his hands. Naruto can't help but snort, a strange feeling gripping his chest despite his nerves.

 

“Welcome.” Jiraiya says dryly, already looking away. Customer service has never been his strong suit. “What can I yet ya?”

 

“Rum and coke.” Naruto replies immediately, placing his card down as he sits. It's all he ever drinks when he's at a bar since it's quick and easy. He also doesn't like the taste of hard liquor, preferring wine most times.

 

His friends used to call him a pussy for it.

 

He wonders what they call him now, after everything.

 

“Coming right up.”

 

Naruto settles in at the end of the bar, wary of the two other inhabitants inside. He only recognizes one; a graying salaryman who he used to pass by on the train platform on his way to school. He had three kids last time Naruto checked—maybe more now—and the bags under his eyes tell a story that Naruto won't bother to read.

 

They make eye contact but there's no light of recognition in the other man's eyes, just sorrow and regret over some memories he's trying to drown in the brown liquor that sloshes around in his glass.

 

The other one looks almost too young to be here at first glance—a shock of red hair settled wildly around his face that's shielding his eyes— but with a second Naruto can see that they're about about the same age. The guy doesn't look up from his phone so Naruto ignores him for the time being.

 

“Here you go.” Jiraiya says, nearly making Naruto jump. He acknowledges him with a nod, sipping slowly, looking up through his lashes while keeping his head lowered.

 

Jiraiya doesn't move away immediately, eyebrow raised. Naruto sees the older man narrow his eyes and cock his head sideways, almost like he's confused.  

 

“No hoods on inside.” He says, shaking his head. “C'mon, you know better, Naruto.”

 

Naruto chuckles lowly into his drink, chagrined. Of course he'd be recognized immediately; Jiraiya looked at him nearly everyday for years. Some might say he raised him, filled in all the blanks his mother (and father) couldn't. He'd spot Naruto in a crowd even if he shaved off all of his hair and painted himself purple.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” He mumbles, throwing back his hood. “I'm trying to be incognito. S'not working too well, is it?”

 

“It took me a second when I didn't see the hair.” Jiraiya admits. He gently tilts Naruto's face up to get a better look at him, fingers brushing gently over his scars like he's afraid to hurt him.

 

They don't hurt anymore, haven't for years. At least, not physically.

 

“But these give you away.” He finishes, so softly it's almost a whisper.

 

Of course they do.

 

“Your mom also mentioned that you might be stopping through soon.” Of course she did. “Don't worry, I haven't told anyone you're here. I thought she was bullshitting me but, here you are.”

 

Naruto isn't sure what he feels at the fond look that follows. He isn't sure what to say to that either. Luckily, Jiraiya talks enough for the both of them.

 

“You seen any of the boys yet?” He asks lowly, not mincing words.

 

Naruto snorts, shaking his head. “Nope.” He answers simply.

 

As if any of this is simple.

 

“Plan to?” Jiraiya says, eyebrow climbing higher.

 

“Not really.” Naruto admits.

 

“Humph.” Is all he gets. The older man is clearly displeased but he knows better than to push. “That's fair I guess, given the circumstances.” He pauses, mind going somewhere far off. Probably somewhere wistful and rose-colored that never existed except for in their minds.  “So, what do you need me for? Obviously you got something to ask that you think I know, so go right ahead.”

 

He always loved that about Jiraiya, always quick to get down to business. Naruto looks around at the other patrons inside but they don't seem to be paying attention. He turns back to Jiraiya who's leaned closer in so they won't be overheard.

 

“What have you heard about the disappearances around here?” Naruto asks, swallowing thickly. Shit, he planned to ease into it instead of asking outright. Being too direct around here is way too fucking risky. But his heart knows he can trust Jiraiya, even if his head disagrees.

 

The other man isn't phased at all. He blinks once and purses his lips, tapping his temple like he's thinking.

 

“Which ones?” He asks dryly, nearly rolling his eyes. “The regular ones that stem from deals gone wrong or the girls that have gotten snatched on their way home at night?”

 

It would definitely have to be—”The latter.” Naruto replies. He knows all about the first kind too but he'd have a better chance trying to turn the sky yellow than trying to solve those.

 

There's usually nothing left to find with the former. He prays that isn't true for those girls.

 

Or Haku.

 

Jiraiya's brow creases in worry, hand forming a fist on the counter. Not a good sign. Shit.

 

“Well…” He says around a sigh. “There's not much to go off of. Most of the families say that the girls weren't wrapped up in any funny business but who's to say? They've all been taken around the same neighborhood and the police circle it daily but more girls are still going missing. The mayor's tempted to have a curfew but fuck all that'll do. It's been a mess.”

 

“What side of town have they been taken from?” Naruto asks, feeling defeated.  If even Jiraiya knows so little then this is going to be even harder than he thought.

 

He sees the older man hesitate and Naruto can't help but feel apprehensive without knowing why.

 

“Around El's Butcher Shop on Fillmore,” Jiraiya replies lowly. He's already shaking his head before Naruto can respond since he knows what he's thinking.

 

 _That_ butcher shop? But that's in—

 

“I know whose territory it's in but c'mon, Naruto.” He says, giving him an almost disappointed look. “Fugaku's not that kind of man and he wouldn't let things go on like that right under his nose.”

 

It's going on right now, isn't it? And in his territory too. Fuck.

 

“Yeah, probably not.” Naruto says, even though it feels like a lie. He wouldn't put anything past Fugaku, nothing at all, but in case anyone's listening he's gotta make sure he's not pointing any fingers.

 

“It's still odd, though.” Jiraiya admits, scratching his beard. “That no one's seen or heard anything. Everyone's being insanely tight lipped about the whole thing.” He sighs again, sucking his teeth.

 

“I feel like I'm letting you down, kiddo, cause I got nothing.”

 

“It's okay.” Naruto assures, finishing off his drink. “I figured this was going to be really complicated and I wasn't wrong.”

 

“Yeah.” Jiraiya replies, crossing his arms and looking away. “ Why the interest, anyway?” He asks, trying to look innocent.

 

Naruto snorts, feeling generous. It might not have been much but the older man gave him somewhere to look, so he'll at least throw him a bone. They've always had a shared love of gossip.

 

“I'm looking for someone.” Is what he says, watching Jiraiya's brows raise again with slight amusement.

 

“Oh? Somebody owe you money?” He asks, chuckling. Naruto wishes he could laugh with him, but he can't. Jiraiya notices this and sobers immediately, cringing a little. “Show me.”

 

Naruto produces a picture. One of his favorites because the smile Haku wears in it could power the whole city. It makes his heart flinch but Naruto pushes it aside, turning it around so Jiraiya can see.

 

“She's pretty.” Jiraiya says immediately, poorly disguising his ogling. Naruto chuckles before correcting him, having to do it so often it feels like second nature.

 

“He, actually.”

 

“Really? Well, alright then.” Jiraiya replies, chuckling too. “What's his name?”

 

“Haku. I take it you haven't seen him, then?” It was a long shot anyway. Naruto tries not to feel too disappointed since he knew better.

 

“I think I'd remember if I did.” The other man replies. “What was he doing down here? You want me to ask around for him?”

 

“No, don't.” That'd just end up causing trouble, no doubt. “He was looking into the disappearances and then we lost contact. That's why I'm here.”

 

“You think he found something he shouldn't have?” Jiraiya asks, voice dipping even lower.

 

“Probably.”

 

“And your plan is to go poking the same bushes he was, right?”

 

Stupidly, the answer's yes.

 

“Yeah. He's a friend and I won't leave him out here without trying to find him first.” Even if the longer he's gone the less likely it is that Haku's still alive and kicking.

 

“Well, I don't have to tell _you_ of all people to be careful, do I?” Jiraiya tuts, sounding fatherly like he often does. “Cause I know I can't convince you otherwise.”

 

“I will be.” Is all he can say, feeling like he's in the twilight zone since he's had this conversation three times since yesterday. It must really be worse around here.

 

“This town's always been insane but, I don't know. Something's coming and I can't tell you what. Some shit is really about to hit the fan. I can't lie and say I wish you weren't around for it.”

 

Naruto does have the worst timing, doesn't he?

 

“If it's what I think it is, then I'm as much a part of this as anyone else.” Even if he's fucked up and convinced himself otherwise. “I just hope it's not what I think it is.”

 

Jiraiya ruffles his hair, giving him a sad, wistful smile. “Me too, kid. Me too.”

* * *

 

**C.**

He ends up staying way too long, at Jiraiya's behest. Their musings soon became nostalgic —some stories sad, some hilarious, some a strange mix between the two. Naruto looks up and suddenly it's 3:30; hours from his day gone that he could have spent looking, but he doesn't feel too guilty over it.

 

It's good to see Jiraiya. It always is in his mind, but especially because it's been so long. Besides, he takes the time to find out about what else the old man knows, whether it relates to his investigation or not. Jiraiya's a valuable ally to have, especially when times are going to become more trying than they already are. That's what he tells himself, at least, when one drink becomes two and two drinks become six.

 

His first full day back and he's already on the sauce. A stellar start, if you ask him.

 

Jiraiya—bless him—lets Naruto sleep it off in the backroom in relative safety. When he comes to, it's nearly eight.

 

Naruto curses, mouth dry and lips cracked. He could kick himself for being so stupid, passing out for so long and wasting the rest of the day away. The sun’s down too, and he didn't bring any type of protection besides his trusty knife.

 

Dammit. Now he'll have to walk back in the dark and hope he doesn't get mugged, or worse.

 

There's a post-it stuck to his sleeve. He's not sure how it managed to stay on since he's a violent sleeper but it doesn't matter. Jiraiya left it for him, and it reads:

 

“ _Full house tonight. Lots of familiar faces. Best not leave through the front door. The code to the back is 6506. If things get too hot you can use this place as a hideout. Good luck, kid. Don’t be a stranger.”_

 

He maybe violently loves him for that. Maybe.

 

Naruto carefully enters the code into the keypad and checks the alley to make sure no one's lingering about. He doesn't see anyone but still waits a few minutes to make sure his exit is clear. When nothing stirs, he pulls his hood back up and stuffs his hands into his hoodie, hunching over and squaring his shoulders to seem menacing as he walks.

 

It worked when he was younger. Parted the masses on the sidewalk like the red sea.

 

Fitting, since he might have to ask the pharaoh to let his people go, if the rumors are true.

 

It doesn't matter much—this little show he's putting on—because the streets are fairly empty. Strange, but it makes sense. Both his mother and Jiraiya alluded to the town spiraling out of control, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that people are being more cautious when night rolls around.

 

That's a shitty way to live, though. For all the going-ons to stop in fear of those things that go _bump_ in the night. It's not Naruto's problem. He's not here to clean up the streets. He couldn't care less if the town burned down tomorrow.

 

A lie if he ever heard one, but whatever.

 

His walk is almost pleasant, save for the ever present need to check over his shoulder after a few steps. Each time he looks back there's no one behind him, no one at all, but exactly five steps later he's looking again and squinting into the dark.

 

He crosses into Uchiha territory after eight minutes, only needs to walk for another three until he's darkening his mother's doorstep again. He feels slightly more at ease here—old habits die hard—but he's still cautious. He starts looking over his shoulder every ten steps, instead.

 

Naruto passes by some shop windows, absently looking into them as he passes. His reflection looks foreign to him almost — Before, the holographic letters that spelled out his name caught on the fluorescent lights, making a prismic rainbow.

 

They'd be bathed in color, heads thrown back and laughing, shining bright and blinding. Naruto would catch his own eyes in the reflection and he looked so happy, so warm and whole, surrounded by—

 

The solid black of his hoodie does none of that, and his feet echo on the cement, alone.

 

He sighs, shaking away such thoughts as he trudges forward.

 

There's a restaurant up ahead. People spill out onto the sidewalk, hugging and kissing each other's cheeks as they prepare to depart. A meeting of some sort, from the looks of it, and Naruto slows his approach as he prepares to move in between all the chatting bodies.

 

As he passes through the throng, he can't help but take a look inside. The place looks pricey, fancier than he's used to. Too rich for his blood, he's always said. There's a valet stand and everything. He rolls his eyes at all the pompous assholes who no doubt eat there, getting a little too lost in thought because in the next moment he's bumping into something solid and warm.

 

If it wasn't for the distinctive feeling of cotton beneath the hand he puts out to steady himself, he'd think he hit a brick wall. The guy's that fucking built. Naruto's already muttering out apologies before he hazards a look up and then his next words die on his tongue.

 

Kisame Hoshigaki stands in front of him, still nearly seven feet tall and incredibly fucking intimidating.

 

Great. One of the top ten people Naruto really didn't want to see right now. Or ever.

 

But here he is; a giant, immovable object standing between Naruto and blissful ambiguity. There's no way the brute won't recognize him, not while Naruto's head is craned so far back to look into his eyes and definitely not with look of immense surprise that passes over Kisame's face like a shadow.

 

He would be the idiot to nearly bowl over Itachi's right hand man while doing his best to be inconspicuous. Tch.

 

There's no way the others won't hear about his return now. His fate is sealed in with Kisame's slow, almost smug smile.

 

“Naruto Uzumaki.” He says warmly, dragging out his name like it’s come from the cigarette he's holding and chuckling in that creepy way of his. Naruto hated him when they were younger. Kisame seemed like Mr. Bad Touch so Naruto always made sure to never be alone with him. He can't believe tonight was the night he broke that streak.

 

Tch.

 

“Kisame.” Naruto replies dryly, feeling his hackles raise.

 

“Fancy meeting you here, isn't it?” He asks, sounding like he has to keep himself from laughing at his own poor joke. Naruto bites the inside of his cheek and shrugs stiffly, struggling not to turn tail and run. “You know, usually when people ride off into the sunset the story's over, right? You lookin’ to do a sequel?”

 

Is that what he thinks Naruto did? Ride off into the sunset? Bullshit. Someone needs to fork over his fucking happy ending if that's the case, because his tale only gets worse as time goes on.

 

“Hardly. I'm just passing through.” He replies tightly, trying to push past him. Kisame doesn't budge but it's not really like Naruto expected him to. He has to try anyway even if he knows it's fruitless.

 

A common theme, lately.

 

“No such thing.” He's right about that, at least. “How long have you been in town for?” Kisame asks, raising an eyebrow, challenge in his eyes. “Cause we haven't heard anything about you being back.”

 

Naruto doesn't want to dig himself into a deeper hole. The Uchiha Clan owned him—his every thought, his every move, his _everything_. So of course they'd feel entitled to him the minute he came back into town. He's not going back without a fight, but he can't step on too many toes.

 

The fact that they didn't kill him once he defected says enough. A luxury not many are afforded. He got a “get out of jail free card” because of what his family did—suffered, _sacrificed—_ for the Uchiha's, but he won't get a second.

 

So, Naruto puts on a fake smile and shrugs again, willing his heart to stop beating so fast at Kisame's scrutiny.

 

“Only since this morning.” He lies through his teeth. The next part is true, at least. “I'm staying with my mom for a while and I just came back from Jiraiya's bar.”

 

Then quieter, he says: “I was going to come to see the group tomorrow.”

 

No he wasn't. Not at all. He kinda rather die but he's not going to say that.

 

Kisame nods but doesn't reply. He has a natural stone face so it's hard to tell if he believes Naruto or not. That doesn't bother him too much since he's not the one he'll have to convince to keep the peace.

 

That's a lie. It bothers him a little, because after an uncomfortable stretch of silence Naruto hears himself saying: “Look, If it's not cool for me to be here, I'll —”

 

Kisame cuts him off, which is good, because Naruto didn't want to say he'll have to leave since he can't just yet.

 

“That's not for me to decide.” Kisame says flatly. He's looking at Naruto like he's an idiot and Naruto can't refute that at the moment. “Take that up with him.” He says, shooting a look over Naruto's shoulder.

 

Shit.

 

It shouldn't hit him like it does to see him. Or better yet, _them._ But Naruto's chest starts to hurt all the same as he spins around to see Itachi and Neji exiting the restaurant at that exact moment, heads bent together in a quiet conversation. Naruto feels himself gasp, equally horrified and strangely disappointed.

 

He thought—

 

You can guess who he'd thought it'd be, can't you?

 

They spot him at the same time, stopping short as other random people spill out onto the sidewalk, waving their goodbyes.

 

When he spun around his hood came off, so they have a clear look at his face. That's apparent from the way Neji's face drains of color and Itachi's eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

 

“Naruto?” They say in unison, except Neji's is more of a stage whisper and Itachi's is smooth like butter as always, even though he's clearly floored.

 

Naruto's throat croaks with some ugly jumble of words that refuse to form, eyes swinging back and forth between them as he wills down his panic.

 

He fails.

 

Fuck.

 

The moment is charged with energy, crackling like static in his ears. It's seconds, but it feels like hours, before anyone says or does anything else.

 

It's Neji who moves first, hand clenching by his side so hard that Naruto's sure his notoriously long nails are cutting into his palms. Naruto notes that they’re dressed to the nines, suits permed-pressed and hair slicked back. There must have been some business meeting inside the restaurant earlier, something important if the both of them were in attendance.

 

Something family related, if Kisame was too.

 

Can't go anywhere without the brawn, after all.

 

Neji studies him too—sees Naruto's  boring black hoodie which must feel like a slap in the face, given the way he swallows hard. But the look on Neji's face when he sees the white, slightly raised lines on Naruto's cheeks will probably keep him up tonight.

 

Oh, that's right. It's the first time Neji's seeing them, absent blood and hot tears. He must have known it'd leave scars, given how deep the knife cut. But the last time Neji saw Naruto he was covered in blood-soaked bandages, laying in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling even though he barely saw it.

 

“I'll come tomorrow.” Neji had said, so quiet and hurt and full of regret, but Naruto was long gone by the time he showed up.

 

Naruto wonders if that exact scene plays in his head like it does for Naruto. It must, since Neji looks away like the sight burns, turning on his heel without another word and power-walking to the curb as the valet brings the car around with impeccable timing.

 

Neji disappears behind tinted windows without so much as a second look, and Naruto pretends like that didn't just hurt like hell.

 

Pretty sure he fails. Pretty sure the pain splashes across his face like a puddle after a hard rain.

 

Silence.

 

He watches the car until it disappears around a corner after it pulls off, and the air feels thick when Naruto looks away to regard Itachi.

 

The other man's eyes are on him already. Guarded, but not unkind. When Naruto bites his lip, nervous and unsure how to proceed, Itachi walks over to him and cups his face. Naruto does his best not to flinch from his hold.

 

“So they left a mark.” Itachi says lightly, even though Naruto can tell that he's incredibly disappointed.

 

“Yeah.” Is all Naruto can say, hating how hoarse his voice sounds.

 

Itachi sighs, closing his eyes for a moment to will away whatever thought he had. When he opens them, they're sharp and focused, unlike a moment ago.

 

He's always been so frighteningly good at that.

 

Naruto feels strange and itchy, too caught up in memories he shouldn't be thinking about. He doesn't know what to do, so he sticks with what he knows best: lightening the mood.

 

“Sorry to run off your ride so quickly.” He says, chuckling weakly. “I just have that effect on people, sometimes.”

 

Itachi doesn't bite, of course, cause he's an overly serious asshole who's never any fun.

 

“Forgive him for leaving so hastily. ” Itachi says, shaking his head. “Neji was deeply hurt when you left and still thinks himself the cause of it.”

 

Great, now Naruto feels even more like an dick. Tch.

 

“That's not—”

 

“I know.” Itachi replies, ever the mind reader. “You don't have to convince _me_ of that.” He pauses, looking away. “I know better than anyone why you chose to leave.”

 

“Do you?” Naruto can't help but challenge. Towards the end, the two of them didn't talk as much, despite being so close when they were young children. It wasn't really Itachi's fault but Naruto's still bitter over it.

 

He has the right to feel the way he does, because Itachi treated him like a brother up until he didn't.

 

Naruto always knew that the group and its proceedings were more important that anything —especially such frivolities like friendship—but it took only once for Itachi to order him around like some mindless grunt before he realized he was as expendable as the rest of the ranks.

 

Naruto wasn’t special to him, he was only convenient.

 

“I do.” Itachi affirms, eyes hard. “And I'm not foolish enough to think I didn't contribute to it. It's one of the only things I truly regret.”

 

Nope. He doesn't want to talk about this. Not now, not ever. There are more important things to worry about.

 

“That's cool, I guess,” He says, edge in his voice sharper than he means it to be. Itachi narrows his eyes but says nothing. “But it's in the past. I...I have some business to take care of here and then I'll be out of your hair. This doesn't have to be a whole, big thing.” He tries.

 

It can be in and out, low key. They don't have to dance this awkward dance of words unsaid and hurt feelings. But of course they will, cause he never gets what he wants.

 

“When is it not when you're involved, Naruto?” Itachi says, sighing in that longsuffering manner he's so good at. Naruto's sure that the other man doesn't mean it in a negative way, but he's already bristling and raw from Neji’s reaction to his presence so he's not going to take that lying down.

 

“Alright.” He says curtly, spinning on his heel. “Goodnight.”

 

Kisame steps in front of him, crossing his arms. Naruto huffs, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place, so he swallows down something hateful and turns back to Itachi.

 

“Forgive me as well,” Itachi says, looking slightly ashamed, “Since I've seemed to have lost my tact due to the surprise of seeing you tonight.” Naruto still feels put out, but he nods without looking at him. Itachi sighs again, probably realizing that he won't win against Naruto's stubbornness. Not in this lifetime.

 

“Stay as long as you like. You don't need my permission or anyone else's. You'll always be welcome.” Hmm. That’s highly fucking debatable.

 

Then he says, quieter. “You're family.”

 

Naruto can't help but protest immediately. “I'm not. Not anymore.” Itachi tuts at him so he feels inclined to continue. “But thanks. I'll make sure to stay out of the way.”

 

“Why are you convinced that you need to?” Itachi questions. Naruto can't tell if he's offended personally or if he feels it for the others who aren't present at the moment. Maybe a bit of both.

 

“So, you're going to lie and tell me that you weren't pissed when I disappeared?” Naruto questions with a snort. He can't believe he's having this conversation in the middle of the street so soon after returning. He was stupid to think all of this would settle with his dust.

 

“Anger was part of it.” Itachi admits. He's usually not one to lie. “But do you really believe that’s all it was? I was hurt, just like the others. I didn't notice how strange it was until I realized you weren't in the photos anymore. We were friends. That's what I assumed we were. Was I wrong?”

 

Oh, come off it! “Yeah. For a while, we were. And then everyone, and I mean _everyone_ , starting switching up and I wasn't sticking around to see where the axe was falling next.”

 

Too much. He's saying too much. Shut the fuck up, Naruto! If you know what’s good for you!

 

“Besides, I know what happens to snitches and turncoats around here so let’s not play this game, alright?”

 

“So, you're a snitch?” Kisame asks from behind him, obviously fishing for a bite.

 

Damn, Naruto played himself, huh? Almost made it seem like he's a Fed.

 

He recalls his mother's words about not letting anyone find out he works with cops occasionally. What a stupid way to almost tell on himself.

 

“Shut up.” Itachi says tersely, shooting a warning look to Kisame that no doubt has him subtly quaking in his boots.

 

Naruto feels his brows raise at Itachi's tone. He's never heard him so curt with Kisame, but it make sense.

 

He personally had a hand in molding Naruto, in making him what he is now. It was already surprising for Sasuke and Itachi to share a favorite, so god forbid that favorite turn against them so thoroughly.

 

Even though he kind of already did.

 

“You seem strangely sure of that.” Naruto says, feeling confused. Itachi's the most untrusting fucker he knows. How can he be so sure that Naruto isn't a dirty traitor, waiting for the right moment to strike?

 

People change, don't they? Or is he still so easily read?

 

Like a light switch, his anger turns off. He turns back to Naruto, collecting himself in no time flat.

 

“You don't have the patience for a long con, Naruto. Believe me.”

 

He's not wrong.

 

But that's not what Itachi really wanted to say. So he continues, ignoring Naruto's subtle glances around them, looking for an escape.

 

“This business you spoke of…” Itachi says, trailing off to let Naruto fill in the blanks.

 

Naruto expected this. Itachi picks up on every minor detail. He wouldn't be where he is if he didn't. That, and he's nosey as fuck.

 

“I got it handled. It's fine.” No, he doesn't. He's done jack shit for his investigation so far and this isn't helping.

 

“Is it so serious that you can't tell me?” Itachi asks, sounding like the brother he used to be to him..

 

“I'm not sure yet.” Naruto admits. He really can't say, since the girls have been going missing in Uchiha territory, which means that Haku could have gone missing there, too.

 

He hates that he's even suspicious of them, but like he said: nothing's off the table. But if Itachi knows something...

 

“If you need anything, ask. I won't hesitate to help within my means.” Itachi says, clapping his shoulder with a firm hand.

 

His means are virtually endless, but Naruto won't fall for that. He knew they'd try to get him to owe a debt. He won't bite that easily.

 

“I'm good, thanks. You don't owe me anything.”  He must feel like he does, since Naruto kept Sasuke in check for so long, distracting him from burning down the town so the slightly less insane Uchiha's could take control of it.

 

Until even Naruto couldn't control him anymore, but none of them accounted for the leash to snap so soon or so violently.

 

Itachi shakes his head, squeezing his shoulder almost to the point of pain before letting up.

 

“I owe you plenty, but that's not the reason I'm offering.” He looks away, eyes full of rare emotion. “Whatever you've gotten yourself into must be serious because I believe you wouldn't have come back into the Lion's den without a gun to your head.”

 

He's got him there.

 

“And your silence confirms it.” Itachi says, chuckling. Naruto feels a small smile bubbling despite himself. “I'll do my best to keep the others off your back.”

 

Then he says, quieter, almost a whisper. Just for Naruto’s ears: “You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

 

Naruto snorts, smirking because he just can't help it. “Since when?” He questions seriously, and even the wise Itachi has no answer.

 

***

He's offered a ride home in Itachi's sleek, black range rover. It's not really an offer and more of a demand; Itachi looked at him with that scary look of his and told him to get in the car. Naruto obliged willingly, only because he didn't feel like being humiliated and carried on Kisame's shoulder if he tried to refuse.

 

Hey, it’s happened before.

 

They don't say much since Itachi chosen that _now’s_ the time to respect his privacy. He knows the older man is just itching to ask what he's been up to, why he's here, what he's going to do. But all Naruto gets is secret, imploring looks that he sees out of the corner of his eyes.

 

The ride should have already ended, being so close to this mother’s house as they were, but they seem to have looped the block twice already.

 

“You holding me hostage?” He asks as a joke, even though he fears its true.

 

“No,” Itachi tuts, rolling his eyes. “Kisame ensures that we aren't being followed. It nearly makes us late for everything, but it's a good habit to have.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Is Naruto's reply, feeling like that should have been obvious.

 

“You'll be free of me soon, don't worry.” Naruto can't tell if he's joking or not. Itachi’s always been sensitive at the oddest of moments.

 

“I didn't —” He protests, feeling like a dick again even though he has the right to be guarded.

 

“It was a joke. Relax.” Itachi mutters, chuckling. He sobers, looking at Naruto with warm eyes before he sighs heavily.

 

“It was good to see you.” He says, and Naruto can say he honestly wasn't expecting that. All he did tonight was be a bit rude and aggressive. What's so good about that?

 

“Yeah. Good seeing you, too.” Not really a lie, but not very true either.

 

Itachi knows this, smiling softly to himself. He passes a gentle hand over Naruto's scars again as the car slows down to a stop.

 

“You should go see him.” Itachi mutters, barely above a whisper. Naruto feels his breath catch but he doesn't pull away despite his brain telling him to. “He won't want to hear that you're back from anyone else.”

 

Naruto look out the window instead of answering, eyes focused on the porch of his old house where all three of them used to sit on hot, summer nights.

 

He sighs, shaking his head. His eyes make contact with Itachi through the reflection of the glass.

 

“He's gotten worse, hasn't he?” He finds himself asking. How could Sasuke not, when Naruto wasn't there to be the angel on his shoulder?

 

Angel? Ha. That's hardly what he was.

 

Regardless, Neji could only do so much alone. It was always a team effort to keep Sasuke off the edge.

 

“Incredibly.” Itachi admits. His body sags after he says it, like it's been weighing on him for a long time. Of course it has, since Naruto's always been the keeper of all of their secrets.

 

He's been slacking, lately.

 

Too full of his own to carry anyone else's.

 

“Is it wrong to say that sometimes, I fear him?”

 

That's probably the most honest Itachi's been with himself in years. Naruto doesn't know what to make of that. Even the Great Demon Itachi, afraid of his own brother. Afraid that one day he's going to swallow them all whole.

 

Naruto snorts, turning to look at him as he opens the car door.

  
“No,” he throws back over his shoulder, looking into Itachi's hooded eyes. The smile he shoots him is as empty as the gathering shadows.  “I’ve _always_ felt the same.”


	3. Three

* * *

**Three.**

 

“Turning your back on the darkness didn't mean the darkness would turn it's back on you.”

 

― Jennifer Donnelly,

_These Shallow Graves_

* * *

 

 **A**.

“Who gave you a ride last night?” Kushina asks over breakfast the next morning, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I couldn’t see who was driving.”

 

Naruto's fork stops centimeters from his mouth, scrambled egg hanging on for dear life. He thought he was in the clear when he entered the house yesterday because his mother was nowhere to be seen. How foolish he was since his mother never misses anything, let alone in her own house or regarding her only son.

 

“Itachi.” He replies faintly around a large swallow of orange juice. It's not nearly muffled enough—or maybe Kushina's ears are just too sharp—because her eyes widen considerably and she tuts in disbelief.

 

“I thought you said—” She begins. Naruto shakes his head, clearing his throat awkwardly.

 

“It was an accident. We ran into each other on my way back from Jiraiya's.” He explains hurriedly.

 

He's not sure why he's rushing because it's not like his mother will judge him for it. She encouraged him to see the group anyway. It feels like he's be caught red handed, somehow.

 

Kushina nods, looking at him like maybe he's a cornered animal who will bite at the tiniest of provocations. He hates that look, saw it way too much when he was running the streets and taking names. His mother used to look at him like she didn't know who he was anymore, like she didn't like what she saw, and he hates that she's looking at him like that now.

 

He can't pinpoint _why_ her gaze reads like that, though. Is she disappointed that he gave in, or disappointed that he didn't?

 

A question he won't dare ask.

 

“Was it only Itachi?” She asks, eyes revealing nothing. “He's rarely seen alone, these days.”

 

Naruto doesn't know what exactly that means and he isn't going to ask.

 

But he rather not think about it, informing her quietly that he ran into: “Neji, too.”

 

The dreams he had last night were terrible. Triggered from seeing his best friend’s face. Old horrors full of pain and blood. Neji's face was mixed in there, hoarsely calling his name—such beauty should never be contorted in such agony—but Naruto was too busy fighting for his life to answer.

 

“Oh? Did you get the chance to talk?” Kushina prompts, sensing his straying thoughts. Her tone eases into something soft and gentle at the mention of Neji's name, knowing a landmine when she hears one.

 

“We didn't.” Yep, still stings. “I didn't get two words in before he turned tail and left.”

 

Not that he's bitter, or anything.

 

Kushina places her hand lightly over his, squeezing as she says: “That's a shame. Just  give him some time. You know he was pretty—”

 

“—Hurt when I left, right?” Naruto sighs out, feeling guilty. “I know, Itachi told me. But I don't really want to talk about that right now, alright? It's fine. I'm not planning to stick around long enough to fix all the shit's that broken.”

 

“I know, honey.” Kushina assures, even though he knows she probably rolling her eyes internally at his stubbornness.

 

Naruto nods, not having a good response for that. He switches gears to avoid the heavy feeling in his chest.

 

“Does Jimmy still run the butcher shop on Fillmore?” He asks her. He forgot to ask Jiraiya before he left his bar and kicks himself for the oversight.

 

“Yeah. He's still not very good at it.” His mother says with a chuckle.” It was never the same after Leo retired, that’s for sure.”

 

“But Jimmy's carrying on the tradition,” Naruto can't help but argue, feeling strangely defensive of the man. “Or, he’s trying to. That's what's important, right?”

 

Kushina's face is unreadable when she says: “Of course.” But for some reason, Naruto doesn't believe that.

 

Conversations to leave for later, surely.

 

“I'm going to go talk to him.” He informs, finishing his food quickly. “See if he knows anything. Is he still unaffiliated?”

 

A loaded, tricky question. If you make shop in someone's territory you belong to them, even if you don't go around advertising it. A technicality, not really fair, but true nonetheless.

 

But if Jimmy carries no crests and bows to no kings then it will be easier to get information out of him, given that he has any. Naruto sure hopes he has some since this is the best lead to go on right now. If not, he's at a loss.

 

Again.

 

“I think so. I haven't heard anything different.” His mother replies, shrugging.

 

“Alright, I'll go talk to him.”

 

“Okay,” Kushina says, clearing their plates. “If he doesn't end up chasing you out with a cleaver then make yourself useful and pick me up some pork chops, will you? We won't have any dinner otherwise.”

 

Naruto chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly as he reaches for his keys. He kisses his mother's temple and says a stale: “Will do.” To her smirking face before he leaves.

 

**…**

We should talk about Jimmy, right? Or James, as his birth certificate says. James Santorini, a quiet, boring, run of the mill man who took over his father's butcher shop when he was only nineteen. A saint, most people say, for giving up his youth to carry on his father's dream.

 

A common theme around these parts, it seems.

 

Except he isn't so quiet and isn't so boring, not to the people around his own age. He was two years ahead of Naruto in school and they did _not_ get along. The story is nothing special: Jimmy sold him some oregano passed off as weed and Naruto kicked the shit out of him. Naruto then proceeded to get a new plug—besmirching the guy’s name and product as well—and Jimmy never forgave him for it. That's all, that's it, but Jimmy acted like Naruto killed his first born or something.

 

Does Jimmy still deal on the side? Does he still take some of the cocaine off top—just a bit, just enough to keep him awake— and suck it up like a anteater? Probably. A butcher shop isn't the pinnacle of profit. Not to mention the dull monotony of making sausages all day.

 

When Naruto approaches the butcher shop, he hears faint, muffled shouting. Not a good sign, since Jimmy's always been quick to anger if you knew the right buttons to push. Naruto doesn't want to talk to him if he's already upset since he's planning to ask a few uncomfortable questions.

 

He hesitates to open the door because the frosted glass coating the windows makes it impossible to see inside. He doesn't get the chance to push it open before someone else is barreling outside with a curse, face black like a storm. Naruto jumps back just quick enough to not be smacked by the door, raising an eyebrow at the man who's just appeared in front of him.

 

Wait,

 

Naruto's seen this guy before. Youngish, a shock of red hair nearly covering his sharp, poison-green eyes. A scowl that could fell nations. It's the guy who was inside Jiraiya's bar when he came in yesterday, the lonely stranger who didn’t look his way once. Why is he—?

 

The man notices him then, eyelids flinching in surprise. He hazards a look back into the shop and tugs the door closed before it could do it on its own, face grim and set as he turns back to Naruto.

 

Nope, Naruto doesn't like this. Doesn't like this at all.

 

“Did you find anything?” The man asks, almost pleading, voice rough and gravely like he smoked one too many cigarettes. Naruto stares at him blankly, warning bells chiming in his head as he tries to figure out what the fuck he's talking about.

 

“What?” Naruto questions slowly, face scrunching in confusion. “Who are you?”

 

And what do you know?

 

“Gaara.” He replies bluntly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “Don't play dumb with me. I heard you in the bar, asking about the girls. Have. You. Found. Anything?” He demands pointedly, crowding up into Naruto's space.

 

Not from around here, then, to do something so risky. Everyone knows that not giving Naruto his breathing room is...Ill advised.

 

But that's not what's important right now. What's important is that it's been three days—count them, go ahead—and he's already started a streak of easily avoidable fuck ups with this investigation, from revealing more than he should to letting random guys overhear private conversations. Fantastic!

 

He's usually better at this, alright? Scout's honor.

 

“This was my lead.” Naruto informs him tartly, stepping backwards in one long stride to get some distance between them. “And from the look on your face a second ago I'm guessing he gave you nothing.”

 

Gaara huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets like he doesn't know what to do with them. “Less than that. He says he hasn't seen or heard anything but I don't believe him.”

 

“Hmm.” Naruto replies, thinking. Jimmy might know more than he's saying but it's doubtful that he'd give up the goods to some random guy who comes barging in like Gaara no doubt did. It might take a familiar face to loosen his lips so Naruto's still going to talk to him anyway.

 

But, In the meantime, he asks Gaara: “Why the interest?” Since this seems personal to the other man. It's not like Naruto cares, really, but he can't have some unknown poking around all the places he's planning to do the same. That's too risky; there’s too many questions about Gaara and his motives and that could gum up the works for Naruto and send him packing.

 

Gaara hesitates, face blank and closed off. He stares at Naruto for what feels like an eternity, eyes scanning Naruto's intently. For what, he's not sure, but Gaara must find what he's looking for because the next moment he's mumbling a soft: “My sister. She was taken.”

 

Shit.

 

Then it's _very_ personal, just like it is for Naruto.

 

Not good. Not good at all.

 

“I'm sorry,” Naruto replies automatically, even though it doesn't mean much. “I really am, but you can't run around like this demanding answers. That won't end well for you.”

 

“You think it'll be any different for you?” Gaara asks with a scoff, crossing his arms. No, Naruto really doesn't. “They're all fucking crazy and shun anyone from outside the city. You'll get nothing.”

 

“I'm a bit of a special case.” Naruto says, shrugging. There's no better way to explain it at the moment.

 

He expects Gaara to argue but instead he just nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer, for some reason.

 

“I was hoping you'd say that.” He says, digging in his pocket to write something down. He hands Naruto a number not two seconds later. Forces it on him, is more like, grabbing Naruto's hand to make his fingers curl around it.

 

“I heard about you,” Gaara continues, making Naruto nearly cringe. Probably nothing good, if he had to guess. “So if you find anything, call me, alright? Trust me, I can be of used to you.”

 

Naruto doesn't like the way he says that: dark, foreboding. He says it like a man that's gazed into the void and found it to be boring. Like someone who's not afraid to get blood on their hands if it means he can finish what he's started.

 

That's probably why Naruto finds himself agreeing, if not to get Gaara to leave. Gaara nods again, stuffing his hands into his pockets and stalking off without another word. He spares one last glance back at a slightly dumbfounded Naruto right before he rounds the corner and disappears.

 

Yeesh. Fucking weirdo. But a potentially useful weirdo.Things are looking up.

 

Maybe.

 

But that's not what's important right now. He still has to talk to Jimmy, so hopefully Gaara hasn't pissed him off enough that Naruto can't get the answers he seeks.

 

Naruto huffs out one long, deep breath before opening the door to enter the butcher shop, counting down from ten to keep himself calm because he knows Jimmy's about to scream bloody murder at him.

 

“Oh fuck no,” Jimmy exclaims, shaking his head so hard that his hair slaps against his cheeks. “I don't need this shit today! Get the fuck out!”

 

See?

 

“Nice to see you too, Jimmy.” Naruto says sarcastically. “Been a while, hasn't it?”

 

“They finally sent one of you fuckers to shake me down, huh?” Jimmy grunts angrily. If Naruto focuses hard enough, he can almost see smoke coming out of his ears. “Well, no thanks. I don't want anything to do with your stupid, fucking ga—”

 

It's Naruto's turn to shake his head, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “Do you see me in any colors? Those jackets are regulation, you know? They tell us that we have to wear them at all times at orientation.” He pauses for dramatic effect, loosely rolling his wrists out like he’s presenting something.  “And I'm not, so what does that tell you?”

 

Naruto can tell that throws Jimmy immediately; he stops short, eyes squirting and pensive, like he's really looking at Naruto for the first time. He cocks his head back and forth, appraising. Naruto must check out, because Jimmy's relaxing ever so slightly but his face still looks guarded.

 

“Shit, I heard that you left but, really?” Jimmy asks, almost sounding shaken. “ _You_ ? Of all the little shits around here, _you_ were the one to jump ship? Un-fucking-believable.”

 

And yet, here he is.

 

“Shocking, I know.” Naruto say wryly, rolling his eyes skyward. “But that's not what I came to talk about.”

 

“What did you come to talk about, then? Cause I know this ain't no friendly visit.” Jimmy sneers. The edge is mostly gone from his voice— _mostly_ —so it seems like he believes Naruto when he says he's unaffiliated.

 

Such a simple thing, to be washed clean of the stains his former image produced. But monumental at the same time, since all the dye he rubbed off his fingers opened more doors than he expected.

 

It's still taking time to get used to, but Naruto can't help but feel like he made the right choice.

 

“I want to know about the girls,” Naruto begins, watching Jimmy’s face carefully. “You really don’t know anything?”

 

He has trouble believing that. Jimmy watches this place like a hawk. Always has. There were plenty of errant tweakers that hung around that he chased off with brooms, potential thieves that were deterred by his bulging muscles and quick tongue. Naruto just can’t believe that Jimmy’s sharp eyes softened when he needed them the most.

 

Jimmy sighs heavily, shaking his head. “You too, huh?” He questions, sucking his teeth. “What’s so different this time? What about this makes everyone willing to ask questions? I don’t get it.”

 

Naruto knows exactly what he means. People go missing around here all the time—some run away, some...don’t. No one blinks, no one looks. It’s the natural order of things. Keep your head low and act like you didn’t see shit, otherwise you’ll disappear, too.

 

“A friend of mine got taken.” There’s no point in lying. Jimmy probably already deduced that he had some stake in this. “So I need to know what you know..”

 

He doesn’t flinch or avert his eyes when Jimmy looks at him sideways, pursing his lips. When the other man’s eyes narrow in thought, Naruto can’t help but hold his breath in slight anticipation, hoping for some good lead to go off of. That is, if Jimmy truly knows something. He could have told Gaara the truth and he didn’t see anything.

 

Jimmy doesn’t fail him, though, because all at once he relaxes and sighs noisily again, absently shuffling his feet.

 

“You won’t tell anyone what I say, right?” Jimmy asks, voice quieter than Naruto’s ever heard it. Even big, tough men like him have something to be afraid of.

 

Like the knives that glitter gold under the streetlights, searching for ribs to bury themselves into. The ghouls that love the taste of blood, the fire that dances up into the night sky and burns them all bare.

 

Those things and worse could happen to him, if the wrong person hears whatever he’s about to whisper to Naruto.   

 

“What do I look like to you?” Naruto can’t help but reply. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a snitch.”

 

“You’re really asking me that?” Jimmy says, snorting. “You’re still fucking Uchiha to everyone but yourself, but whatever.”

 

Oooh, ouch.

 

“Fuck you.” Naruto says, even though his mouth curves up into an almost-smile. It stings, but it’s true.

 

Jimmy chuckles warmly, flicking Naruto off, before his face falls back into a frown. “I...I can’t say for sure what I saw, to be honest. I was taking the trash out one night when I heard a girl crying in the alley.” He begins. Naruto pulls out his notepad with haste, nodding for Jimmy to continue. “I went over to help, naturally, cause a lot of kids go back there to smoke and shit and I thought she might have been in trouble.”

 

“Was she hurt?” Naruto asks, quickly taking notes.

 

“No,” Jimmy replies, snorting. “She looked up at me and she wasn’t even crying for real. Told me to fuck right off and leave her alone. I asked her what the hell she was trying to pull and she wouldn’t answer me. I left her alone because what else was I gonna do? But now that I think about it, she was probably trying to lure someone in if they came looking.”

 

What the hell?

 

“But you did come looking, right? Why wouldn’t she be interested in you?”

 

“Do I look like a teenage girl to you?”  Jimmy asks seriously, making Naruto stand up straighter.

 

“So you think she was there to trap the girls into trying to help so someone else could snatch them?” Interesting, to say the least.

 

Jimmy nods, scratching his chin in thought. “Yeah, I think so. That’s what made the most sense. I kept an eye out but the girl disappeared after. Didn’t see her for awhile but she was in the alley last night, pulling the same shit probably, but since all the parents are being more careful, nothing happened.”

 

Naruto nods, scribbling violently to keep up with what Jimmy’s saying. That’s fucked up, that whoever’s taking the girls is using other kids to lure them in. He’s got to get to the bottom of this and soon, before something terrible happens. If it hasn’t already.

 

“What did she look like? Height, eye color, hair, anything you got.” Naruto asks, fishing for a bite.

 

“Long, reddish hair. Couldn’t tell about the eyes in the dark. Average height and pretty skinny. She had glasses, too, if that helps.”

 

Naruto isn’t sure what any of this means yet, since the description doesn’t ring any bells. It’s a start, though, and now he has someone to track down.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Nah,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “That’s all I got, really. Thought the whole thing was pretty weird but what am I gonna do about it, right?”

 

“Thanks, Jimmy. I really appreciate it.” Naruto says earnestly, holding his hand out for the other man to shake.

 

Oddly, that makes him bashful. “Whatever. If you’re done here, get out.” Jimmy grunts, even though he grips Naruto’s hand, hard.

 

“Fine, fine.” Naruto replies, conceding. “I’ll see myself out.”

 

“You better.” Jimmy quips. There’s no fire behind it. He only says it because he loves to have the last word.

 

Naruto can’t allow him that, though, since he forgot that his mother asked something of him right as his hand is gripping the door handle.

 

“Shit,” He says, huffing to himself. “Do you have any pork chops? I was supposed to pick some up.”

 

Jimmy rolls his eyes forcefully, looking down at his bloody butcher’s apron in disbelief. Naruto feels himself shriveling inside from asking one of the world’s dumbest questions. They stay like that, awkwardly, until Jimmy takes pity on him and lets him off the hook.

 

“C’mon, then.” Jimmy says, rolling his eyes again as he beckons Naruto over. “Tell me what you need.”

 

**...**

He leaves a few minutes later absolutely buzzing. It’s not much, but it feels like he’s getting somewhere. It’s not random. Whoever’s orchestrating the kidnappings is organized. They’re using the teens’ natural curiosity and concern against them, leaving a plant that looks like them to garner trust. Naruto can work with this. He might have to stake out that alley to see if the girl appears, or if any shiesty looking men are hanging about under the cover of night.

 

It feels good to get into the swing of things again. Naruto _knows_ how to do investigations, knows how to get answers when there are seemingly none to be found. He can’t help but feel excited, like he’s closer to finding out what happened to Haku while also uncovering the ghost that’s haunting this city and stealing its children.

 

That elation dies quickly when his phone rings suddenly, lighting up with a number he doesn’t recognize.

 

Naruto purses his lips, switching the bag of meat he’s holding to his non-dominant hand so he can answer the phone.

 

“Hello?” He greets carefully, dragging out the ‘“o”. He’s met with silence for a moment, nearly  static, before a quiet voice replies back.

 

“Naruto Uzumaki?” The voice questions. Naruto squares his shoulders as his eyebrows raise, immediately feeling defensive without knowing why.

 

That’s a lie. He does know why. He’s gone by his father’s last name from the moment he left. No one uses Uzumaki unless they’re from Konoha.

 

So, whoever this is―

 

“Speaking.” Naruto replies sharply, feet speeding up unconsciously as he walks. He feels unguarded being out in the open. It’s broad daylight, but he’s still distrustful of the shadows cast upon the sidewalk.

 

The response he gets is a creepy chuckle,  and it makes his neck hairs stand on end.

 

“Who is this?” Naruto demands evenly, despite his wariness.

 

“It’s been awhile since we’ve spoken, hasn’t it?” The voice says playfully. It rings a bell but Naruto can’t quite place it. All he knows is that the sound of it invokes disgust and unease. “I hear that you’ve come home. Is that true?”

 

“You have five seconds to tell me who you are or I’m hanging up the phone.” Naruto’s not playing this game today. It’s very concerning that this person managed to get his new number because the only ones who know it in town are his mother and Jiraiya.

 

The playfulness drops from the man’s tone when he says, quite forcefully: “Kabuto. Kabuto Yakushi. You remember me, don’t you?”

 

Fuck.

 

“Yeah. I do.” Even though he desperately wishes he didn’t. “What the fuck do you want?”

 

He shouldn’t be continuing this conversation. He should have hung up the minute he confirmed it to be Kabuto. He could die for talking to a rival gang member even though he’s technically out of that life. He knows what Fugaku does to people he suspects of being traitors. It’s been seared into his brain for years. He has no plans to be swinging from an overpass in the next few hours so he should shut this down immediately.

 

His fingers won’t move, though. Naruto isn’t sure why he hesitates, but he does.

 

“To talk.”  He thinks the fuck not. “We should talk.”

 

“Goodbye, Kabuto.” Naruto says, finger hovering over the end call button. _Just fucking do it!_ His mind screams. There’s no earthly reason good enough to keep this going, to risk himself like this.

 

“Ah-ah,” Kabuto tuts mockingly. “But what about our secret? You wouldn’t want that getting out, would you? Not after all this time.”

 

Double fuck.

 

Fuck, and fuck again.

 

He should have known better. Of course Kabuto would lord what he knows over his head until the day they die. He was so stupid back then, lived his life for the sake of protecting the group and looking out for Sasuke. This is exactly what he gets for resorting to cheap, underhanded methods to come out on top. Now, the chickens have come home to roost.

 

Naruto sighs deeply, phone creaking in warning from how hard he grips it. He counts to ten so he doesn’t explode and swallows down something hateful that would no doubt get him in trouble.

 

“Fine. let's talk. Where are you?” Because Naruto isn’t doing this over the phone. No siree. They’re going to meet face to face and Naruto’s going to make sure he isn’t being recorded.

 

He can almost _hear_ Kabuto’s smug little smirk over the phone, curling up the the Grinch. “I just _knew_ you’d see it my way, Naruto.” He says sweetly. “We have so much to discuss.”

 

* * *

 

**B.**

They're sixteen, running from the cops with their heads thrown back in raucous laughter, when Sasuke pushed Naruto up against a wall and kisses him like the world's ending.

 

They never talked about feelings before, not once. Boys don’t really do _that_ , especially not boys as rough and tough as they are. Even though Naruto has plenty of feelings about plenty of things, he doesn't feel confident enough to share with his friends any deep-rooted secrets because he's sure they wouldn't understand. Not like he needs them to.

 

He's sixteen, constantly excited and wound-up, adrenaline pulsing and singing in his veins. Sometimes his mind thinks of things it shouldn't.

 

Like kissing Sasuke, or how soft Neji's hair is and how much he wants to run his fingers through it. How Kiba's abs roll when he laughs or how nice Shikamaru looks when his eyes are hooded and he smirks softly.

 

But nothing comes of those thoughts, because they’re all friends and that’s all they’ll ever be. Such thoughts pass through his mind like the breeze. Easy come, easy go. He'll shake himself and then poof, like smoke, they're gone.

 

So when, without preamble, Sasuke grabs him and kisses him, Naruto simply short circuits.

 

For all of two seconds, and then he's pushing against the other boy's chest hard before rearing back and punching him dead in the nose.

 

“What the hell?” Sasuke grunts, grabbing his nose and checking to see if the hit drew blood. It didn't, since Naruto purposefully held back so he wouldn't hurt him too badly, but he still needed to get his point across.

 

“I should be asking you that!” Naruto exclaims, cranberry blush budding on his cheeks and disappearing into his collar. “What the hell was that for?”

 

“I like you, idiot.” Sasuke replies tartly, forcefully rolling his eyes. “I thought that was obvious.”

 

How? How obvious could it have been when he spent the last two and a half years being on and off with Sakura? Naruto knew better than to get in the middle of that. Sure, this last time they fell apart seemed fairly final, but Naruto's not stupid enough to think that their oaths—curses, pledges to never do it again—means shit at this point.

 

“Bullshit. It wasn't.” He shoots back, feeling his heat starting to rise. It's just like the two of them to argue, even at a time like this. That almost makes Naruto smile, but he refrains.

 

“It was.” Sasuke insists, Brow furrowing low over his eyes. “I don’t treat you like everyone else and you know that.” He's speaking in that quiet, detached tone that Naruto hates. It means he’s getting annoyed but it's fine because Naruto is, too. He can't just spring this news out of the blue and expect him to just _go_ with it, can he?

 

Except, he can, because Naruto will always bend to his will no matter how much he kicks and screams beforehand.

 

Since Naruto is weak.

 

Sasuke is not.

 

Regardless, he's not going down easy. He can't give in immediately because that's what he always does when it comes to Sasuke. If Sasuke really wants him —and _fuck_ if the idea of that doesn't make Naruto slightly giddy — then he's going to have to work for it, at least a little.

 

“And here I thought that was because we were friends. One of your oldest running. Were you only nice to me so you could get in my pants?” Because that would feel really, really, shitty right now.

 

Sasuke looks at him like he's an idiot, jaw dropping ever so like he can't believe what he's hearing. Naruto doesn't back down, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow as he waits for the other boy's answer.

 

“No, you dumbass,” Sasuke grits out, quite forcefully. ”Of course we're friends.” What a relief, seriously. Naruto feels himself deflate a bit at the sound of it. It seems stupid that he'd even doubt that, after all this time, but not as much as one would think.

 

Because Sasuke's always been deeply possessive of him. Borderline obsessed. He'd vet everything that had to deal with Naruto. He picks his friends, where he can go, who he can see. Naruto isn’t allowed to be closer to anyone else and it’s only gotten worse over the years.

 

So why shouldn't Naruto think this is just another way to keep them bound? Wound tight around each other so the lines of separation smudge and blur?

 

Even if he swears it's not, it is.

 

It really is.

 

“But that’s not enough anymore. Now, you’ll be mine.” Sasuke says with such a sense of finality that it robs Naruto of his breath.

 

“I don’t get a say in this?” Naruto retorts angrily, flailing his arms in exasperation. He wishes he could say he can’t believe this but sadly, he can. “I’m not a fucking object, Sasuke. You don’t get to _claim_ me whenever you want. That’s fucked up.”

 

“Whatever,” Sasuke mutters, turning around and walking away without looking back. Naruto watches him, mouth agape, pissed beyond belief about what just transpired.

 

But he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t concede almost immediately to the other boy’s wishes. It takes all of  three days before Naruto gives in and corners Sasuke, annoyed because the other boy had been skillfully (and childishly) avoiding him.

 

“Fine.” Naruto says, looking anywhere but at Sasuke. “I guess I’m yours.”

 

Like this really changes anything.

 

He always was.

 

Sasuke smirks, pulling him closer and kissing his temple.

 

“Good.” is all he says, firm and triumphant, and Naruto can’t tell if the tight feeling he feels in his chest is regret.

 

Life goes.

 

That’s the only way to describe it.

 

Their unceremonious coupling doesn't change much in the group dynamic in the beginning. He should have known that there’d be no dramatic overtures or romantic gestures.

 

Naruto loses his virginity on a chilly spring night in March. There was no grand plan, no sweet lead-up: they get drunk and Sasuke bluntly asks him if he wants it. Naruto wholeheartedly agrees and they sneak off and do it in Sasuke's car—windows fogged up, breath visible. Naruto looks up through the sunroof, blinking through his tears, and he sees the stars.

 

He can't help but think that maybe he's in love.

 

After, Sasuke slings an arm around his shoulder as they walk but he’s always done that. He pays for Naruto’s meals and drives him around where he wants to go, but he’s always done that, too.

 

It doesn’t feel any different than being just friends so Naruto relaxes a little bit.

 

That is, until Naruto and Kiba are having some typical, harmless banter when they’re hanging out. He can’t remember who started it or what they were talking about, but then Kiba says something about Naruto “putting his pretty mouth to good use.” It’s a joke, one the boys use against each other fairly often when they’re trying to rile each other up.

 

But it sets Sasuke off all the same and from one blink to the next, Kiba’s not sitting beside Naruto on the stoop anymore. He’s flying back from a well placed kick to his middle, choking when a hand curves around his neck, eyes wide when Sasuke’s spitting in his face that he _does not_ get to talk to Naruto like that, emphasizing it as he squeezes.

 

Choji can't catch his gasp, dropping his sandwich in shock. Shikamaru can’t catch his flinch, obviously trying to figure out how Sasuke moved from his side so fast to pin down Kiba. Neji meets Naruto’s eyes over the scuffle, face frozen in something like disbelief and disappointment. He sighs heavily, saying too much with one look without speaking at all. It’s up to him to stop it since Naruto’s frozen in surprise and fear.  

 

Sasuke’s never snapped at one of them like this. Never. Other people, sure, but it was always kind of funny seeing how he could go from 0 to 100 at the drop of a hat. But this is Kiba, his friend.

 

If that's what they are anymore. Brothers, really. Family.

 

(Or...lackeys, like Kiba said.)

 

They’ve all known each other since they were very small. None of them have ever hurt each other, not intentionally. They can’t say that anymore, not with the purple rings forming around Kiba’s neck from the weight of Sasuke’s hand, looping like their old pinky promises.   

 

“Let him go, Sasuke.” Neji says firmly. He looms over Sasuke, staring down at him sharply, but he’s careful not to touch him. He knows better than that. “It was a joke. He didn’t mean anything by it. Stop it.” But it’s pointless. Sasuke can’t hear him.

 

Not when he gets like this.

 

No one moves, save for Kiba as he kicks and struggles for air. His face is starting to turn colors. Horrified, Naruto realizes:

 

Sasuke's not going to let go.

 

Naruto pushes past his fear and starts to tug on Sasuke’s arm, desperately trying to get him to release his vice grip before he has to watch his friend die right in front of him.

 

Sasuke seems to remember himself the second Naruto’s hand curls around his bicep, releasing Kiba with a hard flinch. Kiba coughs violently, turning on his side and holding his neck. They all deflate, incredibly relieved, but it does nothing to erase the  tense atmosphere that surrounds them. Naruto can’t bring himself to look at anyone. He lets go of Sasuke like it burns and sits back heavily on the stairs, eyes on his own lap as he tries to keep his hands from shaking.

 

Pretty sure he fails.

 

Pretty sure he notices Neji’s clenched fist shaking, too. Just like Choji’s quivering lip and Shikamaru’s darting, panicked pupils.

 

Sasuke stands quickly, face downcast when everyone starts at his sudden movement. He looks to Kiba, cringing at the other boy’s round, scared eyes, before he mutters a gruff, regretful: “Sorry.” to Kiba’s feet.

 

Sasuke turns on his heel, storming off before anyone can get a word in. Naruto feels like maybe he should follow but his legs feel like they’re filled with lead.

 

Silence.

 

Awkward, tense, heavy silence.

 

Naruto wills down the tears that tell him they want to come, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans to dry them off. Still, no one speaks, and Naruto has to close his eyes so he doesn’t embarrass himself.

 

“Well, that’s new.” Shikamaru says quietly, his typical sarcastic tone noticeably absent. He’s rattled, like the rest of them, floored by this new development.

 

None of them are off limits anymore, it seems. No longer safe from Sasuke’s ever-worsening mood swings and outbursts. Just a taste of what Sasuke dishes out to the rest of the poor fucks in this town, and it’s already too much.

 

“Holy fucking shit.” Kiba rasps, clearing his throat before coughing again. “What the hell was that?”

 

Change. Not for the better.

 

Naruto didn’t realize it yet, but that was when things started to go further downhill.

 

After that—after Sasuke almost killed Kiba right on Naruto’s front porch—things are...different.

 

That’s the only way to describe it.

 

He can’t help but notice that the others begin to keep their distance. Physically, at least, since they still hang out and do their business around town together at the same frequency. But the other boys stay three steps back to make sure they aren’t in Naruto’s space whenever Sasuke’s around. It’s noticeable because Naruto’s always been very tactile; he likes his hugs and puppy piles, likes when people ruffle his hair or sling their arm around him in a casual display of camaraderie.

 

So, when it stops, it’s noticeable.

 

He begins to feel twitchy and isolated. Surrounded by people, but still very much alone.

 

Naruto can’t say much because he chose this, didn’t he? He knew full well that Sasuke was unhinged, not working with a full deck.

 

Not quite right, not all there.

 

They all did. Mixing his typical aggression and insanity with his feelings for Naruto was **_not_ ** a good idea. He knew this, but agreed to be with him, anyway. Stupid. He’s so fucking stupid but it’s too late to back out now.

 

Besides, the others won’t listen if he tries to slander Sasuke, despite being fully aware that his behavior is wrong. They’re hopelessly devoted to him even though they fear him. Naruto is too, so he find himself rationalizing, downplaying, explaining away all of Sasuke’s outbursts as quickly as they come.

 

And come quickly they do, almost at a startling frequency. More broken bones, more bloody beatdowns and crooked noses. Naruto doesn’t know the reason why they’re smashing in certain windows or stealing from people they used to call friends, but they are. He tries not to question it.

 

Shikamaru said it best, didn't he?: It’s easier if you’re just along for the ride.

 

But for how much longer, though?

 

It’s Neji who gets him thinking, months later, as he often does. They’re on a errand—or Naruto is. His mother sent him out for some fancy spices on the nicer side of town and Neji joined him because they rarely get a moment alone together, these days. Neji’s just walking beside him, one hand in his pocket while the other scrolls through his phone, casual and quiet but it rattles Naruto all the way to his bones.

 

Neji notices his deep, near-panicked breathing almost immediately, pocketing his cell to fully regard Naruto, demanding to know: “What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m having a breakdown.” Naruto hears himself saying, faint and ghost-like. “They just aren’t very loud anymore.”

 

“ _Naruto._ ” Neji says firmly, notes of panic edging into his voice. “Look at me. Focus. Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

He can’t say it. Something so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the world but it’s clawing at his insides like rats in a bucket. He feels like he’s bursting, so frustrated and confused but somehow he knows that Neji still gets it.

 

He always does. That’s why he doesn’t hesitate to pull Naruto into a nearly bruising hug, running a careful, comforting hand down his back.

 

When was the last time they were alone together? Just them? Why did it have to be like this—Kiba rarely meets his eyes, Shikamaru doesn’t crack as many jokes, Choji sighs like he’s wistful for something that doesn’t exist, Neji’s eyes are hard and calculating most days, and Naruto?

 

Ha.

 

A shift.

 

They’re changing, turning into something he doesn’t like. He knew one day this life would swallow them whole, turn them into caricatures of their former selves. Losing Sasuke to the fray seemed like an inevitability. He just didn’t expect to lose everyone else along with him.

 

And Neji _gets_ that. That’s why he stands there and lets Naruto sniffle into his shoulder as they both ponder their fate. Wayward sons, soon to be absorbed by the clan they hold so dear. A tragedy, truly, since they’ll be front row to watch Sasuke descend further. So strange, to be on top of the world and yet so utterly powerless.

 

It’s ages before Naruto settles down, his grief passing in slow waves.

 

“Better?” Neji asks softly, patting his hair gently. Naruto sighs into his shoulder, nodding his confirmation.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” In their own secret language, Naruto already laid himself bare.

 

But he can't fix his mouth to say the words out loud.

 

He can’t talk about his deep-rooted, rotten feelings because boys don’t really do _that_ , especially not boys as rough and tough as they are. Even though Naruto has plenty of feelings about plenty of things, he can't say.

 

“Not really.” He’s not so sure he’ll come back from the brink if he says everything on his mind right now, so he won’t.

 

Neji nods, mouth curling into a rueful smile. “Thought not.”

 

He throws his arm around Naruto’s shoulder, pulling him close because he knows that Naruto needs the comfort of his touch. The normalcy. The familiarity of it. “Come on, then.” He says, and—like always—Naruto can do nothing but follow.

* * *

 

**C.**

 

Kabuto Yakushi is a spineless piece of shit. That would come as a surprise to absolutely no one, but it needs to be said.

 

Slimy, smarmy, shitty, and smug. Naruto thinks up countless names to call him as he makes his way to the meeting point.

 

It’s tempting to take out his own knife and end it all as he makes his way to the fringes of Yakushi territory, eyes peeled and hackled raised. This feels like — Naruto isn’t sure what this feels like. A death sentence,  a fool’s errand, ritual suicide, self-flagellation. But it’s none of that. See, when Naruto said he had too many secrets of his own to worry about anyone else’s, he meant that.

 

One of them being that he and Kabuto worked out a deal, once upon a time. Something terrible and sinister, the repercussions of those actions still echoing to this day, and Naruto will do just about anything to keep that from getting out.

 

Anything.

 

So that means he’s going to have to spend the rest of the day hanging out with the enemy, shooting the breeze, swallowing down all the hateful things he’s itching to say as he makes friends with Orochimaru's nephew.

 

Again.

 

Friends? Ha. By no stretch of the imagination would he call them that. Sworn enemies, really. Key players in this messy game. Puppets on a lonely string.  

 

Kabuto is held up in a flower shop on Reeds Ave. A quaint little place, run by a kind old woman. Pink and paisley litter the place — small villages of ceramic figurines populating the windowsills — strangely juxtaposing the hard drugs being produced and packaged in the back room. Naruto enters and nods to the old woman as she helps a customer, mouthing the codeword that he’s surprised he still remembers.

 

Her face drops for only a second, still and stern. Something like regret passes through her eyes but Naruto blinks and it’s gone. She points to an “employees only” door near the back without looking away from her customer. It’s sturdier than the rest, probably bulletproof. Naruto nods again even though she isn’t looking at him, sighing deeply before pushing the door open.  

 

Kabuto’s sitting in a fold out chair, one leg crossed over the other. He pushes his glasses up with one finger and smirks at Naruto, tilting his head to the side, appraising.

 

Naruto’s going to have to get used to that, the way that everyone gives him a not-so-subtle once over as soon as they see him.

 

He doesn’t feel like there’s anything different about him — save for his scars and sour attitude — but it has been years. Maybe he’s taller to them, or skinnier like his mother thinks. Maybe they’ve forgotten small details about him; his strangely white teeth, the way he practically vibrates when he’s nervous, or the light freckles that can barely be seen because of his scars.

 

Or maybe Kabuto’s just trying to intimidate him. Looking at Naruto over his nose like he’s not impressed with what he sees. That’s fine, Naruto isn’t impressed either: the ill—fitting suit the other man wears is drab and so last season.

 

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually come,” Kabuto says simply, clasping his hands in his lap.  Naruto rolls his eyes, grabbing a chair so he can sit across from him.

 

“What do you want, Kabuto?” Naruto asks bluntly. Kabuto chuckles, shaking his head mockingly.

 

“So impatient.” He tsks, waving a finger in Naruto’s face. It takes everything in his power not to reach out and break it. “And here I was hoping you’d be happy to see me. What a shame.”

 

He’s just trying to rile you, Naruto.

 

Don’t you dare fall for it.

 

“What. Do. You. Want?” Naruto repeats through clenched teeth, trying not to let the other man see how much he hates him and hates this.

 

Pretty sure he’s failing. The grating of his canines sounds off like a siren of warning for his worsening mood.

 

That’s why Kabuto knows not to go too far, knows what’s a safe level to antagonize Naruto on. His smirk drops and he sits up straighter, presumably to talk business.

 

Naruto doesn’t know how to feel about that. There’s a certain level of power he feels, to know that others still find him (at least somewhat) daunting. That’s not who he wants to be anymore, but no one will listen to a kinder, gentler Naruto. They only want him with his rough edges and clenched fists, so that’s what they’ll get.

 

“To talk,” At Naruto’s dry look, he continues with slight urgency. “I’m sure you know that there have been disappearances around here, don’t you? Hell, it’s a little too coincidental that once they made national news, you show back up, don’t you think?”  

 

Kabuto’s always been freakishly and annoying preceptive. Naruto might be able to use that to his advantage, since the other man probably knows way more than he does at the moment. But if he’ll give up the goods _for free_ is another story.

 

After all, Konoha couldn’t run without debt, regret, and obligation. That’s a fact set in stone.

 

“Maybe.” Naruto replies carefully, searching Kabuto’s eyes. He’s not sure what he’s getting at, here. “What are you trying to say?”

 

“Nothing accusatory.” Kabuto clarifies, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I get the feeling that you’re personally invested instead of mildly curious, though.”

 

Shit.

 

“Maybe I am.” Naruto answers, feigning boredom as he shrugs his shoulders. “What’s it to you?”

 

Kabuto sighs, pursing his lips. He looks pensive and unsure, like he knows his next words will not be well received. He’s right. Whatever they’re going to be, Naruto’s probably not going to like it.

 

“I could...help you, if you’d like.” He nearly mumbles. Naruto feels his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, wholly surprised and suspicious. He’s almost certain that Kabuto’s never offered to help anyone in his life, which is why he struggled with such a simple sentence. But he’s not going to fall for that. He’s not that much of an idiot.

 

“For what price?” Naruto retorts, crossing his arms. Kabuto huffs, smirking despite himself. The look on his face is uncomfortably fond, like he knew that Naruto would question the sincerity of his offer almost immediately.

 

“Not _exactly_ a price.” Kabuto drawls, eyes growing shifty. “However, my uncle has asked me to extend an invitation to you, to join our group.”

 

The chair clatters loudly when Naruto shoots up from it, the curse on his lips putting sailors to shame.

A fucking mistake. He knew that. He should have never come here, almost surprised that he didn’t catch flame like a devil in a church for even entertaining such nonsense. The _Yakushi_ want him? For what?!

 

That’s a stupid question.

 

He knows what for.

 

It’s not like his family name stopped carrying power just because most of the members are dead. The Uzumaki still have plenty of sway around here; enough clout, enough influence to rally troops when needed. Enough power to kill a king, if minds were set to that purpose.

 

Everyone heard about the lost little boy with Uzumaki blood and his falling out with the big, bad Uchiha. Now he’s a free agent. Untethered. Untied. Up for grabs. If Naruto hadn’t skipped town he probably would have gotten gift baskets in the mail, or he would have been beckoned to all the dark corners around town to have conversations just like this one.

 

“This never happened.” Naruto grits out, staring at Kabuto pointedly. “You never fucking saw me and we never fucking spoke, understood?”

 

“ _Naruto.”_  Kabuto says, breathing deeply as his hands intertwine once more. “Sit down.”

 

He thinks the fuck not. “I’ll tell Sasuke myself before I work with you, do you understand?” Is he yelling? It feels like he’s yelling. Can the people outside the door hear him? Shit. “Am I supposed to forget that your uncle killed mine? I don’t think so.”

 

He’ll never forget that. Never forgive it, either.

 

Never. Never. Never.

 

“What if it meant bringing peace back to this place?” Kabuto questions, voice hard. “Your little friend lost the plot and his mind, if he ever had one. All the power he has goes right to his head. All you did before to protect him, and now you won’t even consider it? Come on, Naruto.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me and act like it’s all Sasuke’s fault,” It could be. That’s highly probable. But some part of Naruto, deep down, is still protective of Sasuke just like he’s always been.

 

“There are plenty of people that fuck up this town just for the fun of it, just like he does. Just like _you_ do. So, don’t act like you're on some campaign to clean up the streets. You want me because I know things about them that could ruin their whole operation. Or, you _think_ I know things, but they didn’t tell me shit, alright? Nothing that could sink ships, that’s for sure.”

 

Laughable, even as he says it. Of course Naruto knows plenty, but the price would have to be astronomical for him to sell out his brothers, his mother, his — to sell out Sasuke, too. Even if he hasn’t spoken to most of them in years, Naruto would never stoop so low.

 

Kabuto tsks at him, shaking his head like he’s disappointed. But his eyes remain sharp and focused, so Naruto knows that he still has more up his sleeve. Even a half-wit like Kabuto knows that Naruto wouldn’t roll over that easily.

 

“You’re letting me down, Naruto,” He says slowly, like Naruto really gives a shit. “I thought after Suigetsu, you’d be more open to —”

 

Naruto stops him short, snorting around a forceful laugh. “Let’s get one thing straight; I gave you Suigetsu to see him eaten, not to see you fed. You couldn’t even do that right! But I don’t plan on doing anything like that ever again so don’t think you can manipulate me with that. That’s not how this works.”

 

This time, there’s genuine disappointment on Kabuto’s face. That was his ace in the hole; the fact that they worked together to get rid of a shared enemy in secret is all he has on Naruto, but now he’s making it clear he won’t let that control him.

 

But where does Naruto get off, really? He knew that working with Kabuto would give the lonely little prince the idea that they were cohorts, co-conspirators or some shit. The other man never had many friends, so all Naruto had to do was bat his lashes and pretend like he cared about him a little until the deed was done.

 

He paid for it. Twice over. Undeservedly so, maybe, but all he knows is that he fell on that sword so he has the right to complain about the pain.

 

“Fine. I won’t pressure you.” Kabuto says, quite reluctantly. “But know this: As long as you aren’t welcome with the Uchiha, the offer stands. If you ever change your mind, call me.”

 

As if Naruto would be stupid enough to save Kabuto’s number in his phone directly. When the other man called, he put it under “Bitch.” That’s all. That’s it. Because if someone...undesirable got a hold of his phone, said bitch could be anyone.

 

Naruto snorts again, rolling his eyes. “Who said I’m not welcome?” He says, thinking back to Itachi’s words. He doesn’t give Kabuto the chance to mull over that, pushing forward to ask: “If that’s all, can I go? I have better things to do.” He’s already turning on his heel to go do them.

 

“I did have something for you, if you want it.” Kabuto says, his smug little smirk reappearing. Naruto can’t help but stop short, his curiosity getting the better of him, despite himself.

 

“Only if you’re offering it freely.” Naruto retorts. “I’m not in the market for favors.”

 

“Fair enough.” Kabuto says, shrugging. He produces a small, black bag from behind his chair, holding it out to Naruto. “Open it.”

 

“Why?” Naruto questions, taking the bag even though he’s wary. “What’s in it?”

 

“I’m not too keen on innocent children being hurt.” Kabuto replies, surprising him. “This town’s reputation is bad enough as it is. So I’ve had someone looking into the disappearances, too. My guy’s trail went cold fast, but he did find what’s in the bag. And in a pretty questionable place, too.”

 

“And where would that be?” Naruto asks, eyebrow raising. The alarm is sounding in his head again, shrill and bell-like.

 

Kabuto’s smile is positively predatory when he says: “In a Uchiha-owned storehouse, near the wharf.”

 

Shit.

 

Naruto opens the bag even though he doesn’t think he wants to see the contents. His heart stops when he pulls out a green utility jacket, it’s left sleeve darkened with blood. He recognizes it immediately, having bought it as a birthday gift for Haku two years ago, Underneath it is Haku’s phone, screen cracked, tiny specs of blood dotting it, too.

 

Shit.

 

Shitshitshitshitshit.

 

“He tried to call you.” Kabuto says, voice distant and far away as Naruto stares at the phone in his hand. He couldn’t respond to him even if he wanted to. “But the call got...disconnected.”

 

Naruto knows that.  It was three am when the call came through. Only three seconds long. Naruto couldn’t finish his sleepy “Hello?” before the phone hung up abruptly, setting him on edge. It’s what got him to run back to this godforsaken place like the devil was on his heels.

 

Haku's jacket, stained with blood. Snatched up in Uchiha territory in the dark of night, just like those girls.

 

This...isn’t good, is it?

 

Fuck.

 

**…**

 

The panic attack he has once he gets home is fierce and all-consuming. He slides against his shut door, rocking gently, palms pressed to his eyes as he tries to talk himself down. His mother’s knocking, confused and concerned, but he can’t answer her. His mouth won’t move and his legs can’t stand, so he stays on the floor and tries to figure out what this all means.

 

Hell, At least he didn’t break in front of Kabuto.

 

It’s the little things, really.

 


	4. Four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little different. It's all set in the past because the context is very important for the story moving forward! Enjoy!

* * *

 

**Four.**

 

“Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face —

There’s nothing more sinister.

Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it

And not to be able to stare into his own eyes. “

 

—Fernando Pessoa,

_The Book of Disquiet._

* * *

 

 

**A.**

 

The end comes in two parts: first, with the arrival of a new boy. Then, with his departure.

 

It starts like this:

 

It's February of their seventeenth year. Bitterly cold—most days they spend huddled together with their hands stuffed in their pockets, breathing each other's air, wondering why winter refuses to let up.

 

Fugaku's got them on patrol, watching out for any of Orochimaru's boys who keep wandering too close to this side of town. It's been happening at lot lately, and Naruto isn't sure he likes the implication.

 

Orochimaru's been quiet these last few years. Not calm, but quiet. He hasn't stirred any pots or ruffled any feathers in quite a while. But he's on the move again, from the looks of it, so Fugaku's not taking any chances.

 

The lot of them are giddy, for the most part. Excited to be left in charge of something so important. “The vanguard” Shikamaru dubs it one afternoon, breath puffing around him like his cigarette smoke. Kiba snorts, looking to the white-gray sky with a slight squint.

 

“You think he's really leaving this to us? Yanno, like, for real? Or do you think he's got someone watching us to make sure we don't fuck it up?” Kiba asks no one in particular. Choji purses his lips, rubbing his hands together to get feeling back into them.

 

It's Sasuke who answers instead, face turned away as he scans the streets for any shifty looking people.

 

“He's got someone watching us.” Sasuke says lowly, lighting his own cigarette. He then looks to Kiba from underneath his lashes. “He always has. They aren't supposed to interfere unless things get out of hand.”

 

Naruto swallows down a disbelieving scoff, doubting the validity of that. There are plenty of things that they've done that got _way_ out of hand, but no one saw the need to step in then? If that’s the case, what does Fugaku consider to be “too far?”

 

Honestly? He'd rather not find out.

 

“Well, why can't they take care of it? I'm freezing to death over here.” Choji whines, making them all smile.

 

The scarf wrapped around Neji's mouth muffles his words slightly, but they can still hear him. “Just a little longer, Choji. Then, we can get hot cocoa. Hinata's making it.”

 

No one can argue with that. Hinata makes the best cocoa. A worthy prize after standing in the cold for hours.

 

“With marshmallows?” Kiba asks, sounding so young and hopeful.

 

A rarity, these days.

 

To sound hopeful.

 

Neji chuckles, his eyes warm. “If you want.” He replies.

 

It's Naruto who spots him first. Only because his eyes have been fixed on the same spot as he listened to the others and their idle chatter.

 

Walking from the direction of the station is a strange boy. He looks tough, confident: wild eyes, hair the color of ice, a smirk that says he knows more than you ever could.

 

Naruto instantly dislikes him, and he can't put his finger on it.

 

“Who's that?” He hears himself asking without meaning to, jutting out his chin in the boy's direction. “I haven't seen him around before.”

 

They always notice kids their own age. There's rarely people who move into this town voluntarily, so they try to be friendly to new faces as not to run them off. Or, Naruto does. He's outgoing, so befriending teens isn't hard for him. The others  only do it for “recruiting” purposes.

 

Sasuke looks in the direction of the boy, brow furrowed. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before shrugging nonchalantly.

 

“I don't know.” He says simply, and that's the end of it. Sasuke looked him over and didn't care for what he saw; there was no light in his eyes, no inflection in his voice to signify any interest. They've all gotten good at decoding Sasuke's non-speech, his ticks and hints. Naruto can tell immediately that Sasuke couldn't give a shit about who this boy is or why he's here, so they'll leave him alone.

 

Naruto smiles softly while ducking his head, relieved. In the past few weeks, Sasuke's slowly started to come back to himself. Less random outbursts or unprovoked attacks. He's thinking things through again: months ago, he probably would have beaten the boy to a bloody pulp for no reason at all, just to say that he could. Now, Sasuke looks away and goes back to surveying, the boy forgotten.

 

If only it would have stayed that way.

 

Three days later they see him again. This time, he's walking straight towards them, raising a hand in a slight wave.

 

Shit.

 

Naruto looks to Neji out of the corner of his eyes, not surprised that the other boy is looking to him already. They're tense and unsure, not certain that this will end well. Kiba, Shikamaru, and Choji instantly notice their apprehension, adding their own to the mix as they straighten their backs and prepare for the worst.

 

“Who are you guys supposed to be?” The boy says with a chuckle, looking them up and down in a way that makes Naruto bristle like a cat. “Are you in a gang or something? Is that why your scarves match?”

 

Naruto can't help but look down at himself, noticing the Uchiha fan stitched into his scarf that Mikoto did by hand. It's totally normal for them to be emblazoned with the Uchiha crest and colors, so he didn't really notice that all their scarves are the same today.

 

To someone else, an outsider, such things would hint at a certain affiliation. It's more obvious when their jean jackets or bombers match, but their coats are different styles so they never customized those. But the fans on the scarves aren't very big. In fact, you'd need to be standing right in front of them to notice such a minor detail so quickly.

 

Naruto notes for later that the boy is very observant.

 

And a bit reckless, to ask them something so blatant and bold in the middle of the street, even if their affiliation is an open secret.

 

Naruto quickly looks to Sasuke, unsure how he'll react. He’s ready to jump into action in case the new boy ends up in a headlock or with his arm yanked back, just shy of the point of breaking.

 

Hey, it's happened before.

 

But all Sasuke does is chuckle, almost like he was caught off guard. He raises an eyebrow and smirks, asking goodnaturedly: “And what if we are?”

 

The boy's jaw drops slightly and he swings his eyes around to look at each one of them, face colored with disbelief.

 

“Oh shit, seriously? I was totally joking! That's fucking awesome!” He says, excited like he's found a new, favorite show.

 

After, they see him a lot. He goes out of his way to speak to them—hanging on to their every word like he’s impressed with everything they do. They chat for a while about random things; the town, the school they all attend, whatever’s on their mind, and then he's off; he leaves with an obnoxious wave that's only a little endearing. Simple, normal interactions.  It seems like the boy just wants to be friends with them, and strangely, Sasuke's the most open to it.

 

Naruto doesn't get it.

 

The boy’s name is Suigetsu. They find that out after their second run-in. He isn't from here. He doesn't know their ways, hasn't taken the same pledge that they have, hasn't lived the horrors that they do on the daily —but suddenly he's everywhere and Sasuke allows him to stay.

 

Naruto's confused about the _why_ of it: Sasuke doesn't make new friends and doesn't like outsiders. Suigetsu falls under both of those categories, but for some reason, Sasuke allows him to stay.

 

Naruto can't help but ask about it weeks later, trying to sound nonchalant and only vaguely curious instead of—well, he's not sure what he's feeling.

 

Apprehensive? Hm, probably. Wary? Most definitely. Violently jealous that Sasuke's paying so much attention to some random boy he's only known a few weeks?

 

That's a hard maybe.

 

Sasuke shrugs, propping his head up with his hand as he lounges on the couch in Shikamaru's living room.

 

“I don't know.” Sasuke says simply, jaw cracking as he yawns. “There's something about him. Potential. I'm thinking of bringing him in.”

 

Shikamaru blinks, brow furrowing quickly in confusion before he schools his face back into a blank mask. Kiba looks at the side of Sasuke's face like he's grown a second head. Choji looks to the ground, probably to hide his surprise, and Neji's mouth pulls down into a thoughtful frown, but he says nothing.

 

Well, that's new, Naruto thinks.

 

Sasuke barely trusts anyone outside of his immediate circle, so for him to already consider Suigetsu as worthy, that's —

 

“Okay.” Naruto says, too shocked to say much else.

 

He knows better than to argue, anyway. Sasuke will dig in his heels if he hears protest, especially if his mind is already made up. Naruto doesn't feel like fighting because  he's not super against it per say, but there's something off about Suigetsu. Odd. Wrong. But he can't vocalize it like he wants to, so he'll let it go for now.

 

The others bring it up when they're waiting for Sasuke to arrive one day, late as ever. Shikamaru's got his arms crossed, tapping out a silent beat with his fingers. Kiba's got a thoughtful look on his face, Neji's ignoring all of them while texting a mile a minute, and then Choji’s clearing his throat to get their attention.

 

“I don't like him.” Is all Choji says, curt and forceful. They don't have to ask who he's talking about.

 

“Thank fuck.” Kiba sighs heavily.  “I thought I was the only one.”

 

“Hardly.” Neji scoffs without looking up. “He's strange.”

 

“More than strange,” Shikamaru concours lowly, blowing a frustrated raspberry. “Too...overzealous? Clingy? Attentive? He wants something, I just don't know what it is.”

 

Naruto feels less childish now, like he was throwing a fit because he didn't want to make new friends. If the others noticed — so much so that they dare to talk about it even though Sasuke could show up any second—then that means there's something there, right?

 

“It's weird how calm he is about the whole “gang” thing,  you know?” Choji mutters. “And it's weird how Sasuke let's him get away with saying whatever.”

 

“Yeah, when he came up to us that first day I definitely thought Sasuke was gonna break his nose for daring to make eye contact.” Kiba muses.

 

Neji snorts, finally looking at Kiba with eyes full of amusement. Kiba shrugs theatrically, shaking his head with a smile.

 

“What? I know you all were thinking it, too. We all know that like, 75% of Sasuke's personality is going overboard. I'm just calling it like it is.”

 

Yet somehow, they still love him to death.

 

“What do you think, Naruto?” Shikamaru asks. He know that they all noticed that his commentary was absent. Naruto catches a flinch, wary of being the center of attention.

 

One word from him and they'll never stop talking about it. Or, if he shuts them down and tells them to leave it alone, they will.

 

He's not sure which is the better option, at this point.

 

“Sasuke's coming.” Naruto notes instead, looking over Neji's shoulder. “Suigetsu's with him.”

 

“Of course he is.” Choji mumbles quietly, but that's the end of that.

 

The others draw themselves up, trying to look casual and like they weren't just talking shit.

 

Sasuke notices their awkwardness immediately, narrowing his eyes and looking between them.

 

“What?” He asks, mouth falling into a slightly confused frown.

 

He hates being left out.

 

He's not the only one.

 

“Nothing.” Naruto says calmly, face blank and still. And because it comes from Naruto, Sasuke instantly believes it.

* * *

 

**B.**

 

The first time Naruto catches Sasuke doing cocaine, he freaks the fuck out.

 

Drugs aren't something they do. Never have. Save for run-of-the-mill weed, the occasional pill or two, and of course cigarettes and alcohol, but those barely count.

 

They definitely don't make that jump to fucking cocaine on a whim. So, Naruto can only assume it's not a whim and instead that it's  basic, simple persuasion.

 

Because Suigetsu's there too, laughing up a storm at the look on Naruto's face when he walks in on them, already high off his ass. Sasuke chuckles too, holding out the pipe to Naruto in offering. Naruto can't even form words—that's how pissed and disappointed he is—so he hits a three-point turn with his feet and gets the hell out of there.

 

By the time he makes it to Neji, he feels like he might cry. Or scream. Or both.

 

He's pacing as Neji sits on the bed, watching him wear a hole in the carpet.

 

“It could be a one time thing, Naruto.” Neji tries to reason, even though he looks equally disheartened. “This doesn't means he's going to get hooked on drugs.”

 

“You know he's not well, Neji!” Naruto exclaims.  They don't have a name for whatever mental illness Sasuke has yet, but it's apparent that he has one. “Who knows what this will do to him? The last thing we need is for him to be more unpredictable than he already is!”

 

Neji, for all his words, can’t refute that. Probably because he was thinking the same thing, but he’s smart enough not to drive himself crazy with all the possibilities.

 

Naruto can't relate.

 

The second time he sees Sasuke doing it—or about to, but we'll get to that in a second— the others are there to witness it, too.

 

They're in Naruto's room after a pretty lazy afternoon. They only went to school for a half day and needed time to kill before dark. Kushina's at work, so they're alone, and that's probably why Sasuke feels bold enough to pull out the offending material from his bag.

 

He never would, if Kushina was home.

 

She's scarier than all of them combined.

 

“Whoa.” Kiba says with an awkward chuckle, choking slightly on his drink. “Since when are we doing that?”

 

Choji's eyes widen and he looks around, trying to see if everyone is surprised as he is.

 

Neji frowns, grunting out a pointed: “ _Sasuke._ ” Like he can't believe he has to deal with this. “You can't be serious —”

 

Sasuke can't say anything before Naruto's springing up, incensed, looking down at Sasuke like he's completely lost his mind.

 

“No,” He hears himself saying. Is he yelling? It feels like he's yelling. Shit. “I think the fuck not. You're not doing that in here.”

 

“Naruto—” Sasuke sighs, rolling his eyes like it's not a big deal. But it is, and Naruto's not going to pretend it's not.

 

“If you want to do it so bad, get out. Go somewhere else.” When Sasuke blinks at him— and the others do too. What, is it so goddamn shocking for him to stand up for himself? Tch. — he doubles down, nearly growling out a bold, very spirited: “I'm dead serious, Sasuke. Get the fuck out.”

 

“Dude,” Suigetsu breathes, stilling smirking in that annoying way of his. “Chill, it's—”

 

“You can go, too.” Naruto interrupts, pointing to the door. He's not going to let this slide. He means business. They're not going to bring this shit into his house without asking first. There are boundaries and it's high time that Sasuke started to abide by them.

 

Sasuke stares at him, cold and closed off like maybe he doesn't even recognize Naruto's face. His heartbeat picks up at that, fearful for only a second that Sasuke might do something to him. But he doesn't. The other boy stands up, grunting a clearly pissed off: “Okay. Fine.”

 

He makes his way to the door, not breaking eye contact with Naruto as he's about to exit with Suigetsu on his heels. Then, he stops, throwing a look over his shoulder to the others still sitting.

 

“C'mon, then.” He says with such fierce finality that the others are scrambling up to follow. Naruto blinks, failing to cover his hurt when Kiba won't look at him, when Shikamaru breezes passed him without a apology like he usually does, when Choji wrings his hands together in nervousness but he still won't get involved.

 

Neji doesn't move, legs still crossed together as he sits on the floor. He meets Sasuke's challenging look with one of his own, one far more venomous than any of them were prepared for. Naruto sees the moment that Sasuke realizes that he crossed a line, but he's far too prideful to admit it.

 

“I'm good here.” Neji says calmly, voice betraying nothing of the storm in his eyes. “See you later.”

 

“Whatever.” Sasuke mumbles, leaving with his entourage quickly and quietly. Naruto flinches when the door slams, sighing as he cleans up the paper plates strewn around the floor from  their lunch.

 

Neji says nothing, but it's not like he expects him to.

 

No one likes being wrong.

 

The third time, they're at a party. Sakura's party, to be exact. One she threw just for the hell of it, since they're juniors and they can do whatever they want.

 

Naruto hasn't talked to her in awhile—not because he didn't want to. Moreso because they've all been busy and she doesn't run with them anymore, so he sees less of her.

 

It was awkward at first, when he explained that he and Sasuke are sorta-not-really dating. She took it in stride, told him she was happy for him, and then told him to watch himself.

 

“Sometimes you're certain he loves you, and other times, you're absolutely sure that he doesn't.” She says sagely. Naruto hates that he knows exactly what she means.

 

Especially since the last few weeks have been hell. Sasuke’s flown off the handle again, acting wild and violent. Naruto feels like he doesn't know who he is anymore and Sasuke looks like he's waiting for Naruto say something, anything—to tell him to _stop_ , that it's enough, just so Sasuke can scoff and tell him to quit being such a pussy about it.

 

But yes, they're at a party and Naruto's had a few beers. He gets giggly and attention-starved when he's drunk, so if course he seeks out Sasuke in the hopes of a subtle cuddle.

 

They haven't been widely open with their relationship. If you can call it that. They aren't exclusive and Sasuke does whatever he wants—or whoever, when the mood suits him. Naruto can't call him his boyfriend. They’re friends who occasionally fuck. That's all, that's it. And then Sasuke goes and fucks someone else but god forbid Naruto do the same.

 

He hasn't tried, for fear of what would happen.

 

But it isn't weird for Naruto to hang all over Sasuke. Onlookers wouldn't find anything strange about that, since Naruto's one of the only people allowed to touch Sasuke freely. No one would figure out that their relationship has changed just because Naruto wants a hug.

 

But he doesn't get it, mainly because Sasuke's already wrapped up talking to Suigetsu, laughing at his lame jokes, nursing the same beer as he hangs onto the other boy's every word.

 

One look into Sasuke's eyes and Naruto can already tell that he's high. Probably has been for a while, from the looseness of his body and the rapid, excited tone that's wildly foreign coming out of Sasuke's mouth.

 

(One more look—a simple glance, so very fleeting—just observing them for a second, and Naruto just...knows. He fucking _knows_ , but he can't say anything. He doesn't have the right to be mad about it, because Naruto never told Sasuke that he couldn't.)

 

Naruto tries to subtly pull him to the side, just to talk, because he hasn't had the chance to all night. No, that's not right. It's been days since the last time he spoke to Sasuke privately, even longer since there wasn't a strange sense of discord and awkwardness surrounding them like a shroud.

 

It's been tense with the boys since they think Naruto's pissed at them for leaving him behind, for clearly taking sides. Don't get him wrong: he totally is, but he hates feeling distanced and left out so he's willing to let it go.

 

He just wants things to go back to normal. If that's even possible at this point. If any of this could be called “normal” in the first place.

 

Sasuke shakes off his hand before Naruto can get a word in, huffing like he's annoyed. Naruto tries his best not to take personal offense, but he's pretty sure he fails. Pretty sure his free hand fists into a ball and his teeth grind as he fights not to curse him out.

 

“I'm not in the mood, Naruto.” Sasuke says. He didn't even know what Naruto was going to say!

 

“Sasuke—” He tries, even though he knows it's not going to work.

 

Sasuke pulls Naruto close by grabbing his bicep, looking into Naruto's wide eyes with all the clarity he can muster.

 

“I'm gonna say this as nice as I can, okay?  Fuck off.” Sasuke hisses, pushing Naruto back hard enough for him to stumble, but not enough to hurt him.

 

Not physically, anyway.

 

Sakura notices this even though she was caught up in another conversation with a partygoer nearby. She blinks, her smile slipping ever so, eyes growing apologetic as she watches the exchange.

 

Naruto can't look at her. He doesn't know what to do, so he spins around and storms off. He doesn't tell anyone that he's leaving and doesn't say where he's going. He just leaves, shaking so hard that he has to stop and punch a wall before he explodes.

 

Jiraiya treats his hand gingerly when he gets there, wrapping it in gauze just tight enough for it to stop the bleeding, but not enough for his hand to ache.

 

The old man watches him like one watches a loose dog: carefully, warily, mindful of it's bark and it's bite.

 

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jiraiya asks gently, handing Naruto a cold glass of water. This town is lawless, but he still won't let Naruto slide with underage drinking. Not on his watch.

 

“It's not like you to lose your temper like that.”

 

“Nothing.” Naruto says, too angry to say much else. That's all his efforts have amounted to, right?

 

Nothing.

 

Jiraiya leaves him alone after that. Let's him sit in the corner and brood until it's closing time, shaking Naruto's shoulder as he started to nod off.

 

“Time to go, kid.” Jiraiya says, ruffling his hair. Naruto grunts, but welcomes the touch. “You want a ride home?”

 

“Nah, I'm good. I'll walk to clear my head.” he replies, yawning.

 

He's going to get chewed out for sure. first by his mother and then by his friends for not telling them where he was. The party's gotta be winding down or over at this point, but he's positive that the others noticed he was gone hours ago. He's not going to look at his phone or respond to any texts, though. He's going to shut up and fuck off just like Sasuke wanted by going straight home.

 

“If you're sure.” Jiraiya replies, voice filled with uncertainty.

 

“It's okay. I'll be careful.” Naruto assures. He can take care of himself. He always has. Just because he's upset doesn't mean he's lost his sense.

 

“I know you will.” The older man says, and that's the end of that.

 

He bundles up his coat tight after they finish their goodbyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets to fight the bitter cold. The walk back from Jiraiya's is short—always less  than fifteen minutes, depending on how fast he's going—but he doesn't quite make it into Uchiha territory before a sleek, black car is pulling up beside him, window rolling down slowly.

 

Shit!

 

All Naruto has is a small knife. That'll do fuck all if he's about to get shot. He panics internally for a few seconds before the window comes down entirely, ready to run at a moment's notice.

 

Nothing happens.

 

He finds himself blinking, incredibly confused because he was certain that he would need to run for his life, but he's only staring back at one Kabuto Yakushi as he leans his head out of the car.

 

“Naruto.” He says, voice betraying nothing, “You look cold. Want a ride?” He asks.

 

No way, Naruto thinks. No way in hell.

 

He doesn't like Kabuto, for obvious reasons. Doesn't speak to him or find himself near him for those same, exact reasons. Why should he start now? It's not like this is some friendly offer anyway: Kabuto does everything on his uncle's request. Everything. Naruto doesn't think that there's been one time where the boy tried thinking for himself, so hungry to inherit Orochimaru's throne that he'll lie, cheat, and steal to get it.

 

That kind of dedication isn't surprising. Not in the least.

 

Naruto does all those things on the daily.

 

“No thanks.” Naruto says. “I need the exercise.”

 

Kabuto doesn't relent, smiling softly at him. It makes Naruto uneasy because he doesn't think Kabuto's face is supposed to do that. It's too gentle and wholly unsettling.

 

“But I need to talk to you,” Kabuto insists. “It's important.”

 

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” Naruto scoffs. He shouldn't be entertaining this, but he is.

 

This is dangerous ground. Kabuto knew just the time to catch him, like some freaky sixth sense shit. Right when Naruto's pissed and questioning everything.

 

“I heard you all made a new friend.” Kabuto says, raising a brow at whatever face Naruto makes in response. “Suigetsu, right?”

 

“And why do you know that?” Naruto questions, feeling uneasy. About which part, he's not sure.

 

Is he upset that Kabuto knows about what they've been up to, or is he upset that he'd dare imply that Suigetsu is Naruto's friend?

 

Maybe both.

 

“You should probably get in the car.” Kabuto says, voice so stern and serious and Naruto can't help but oblige, looking around to make sure that no one's watching him ride off with the enemy.

 

He sees no one, no one at all, so he sighs and gets in the car.

 

**…**

“You're fucking kidding me.” Naruto breathes, anger threatening to lash out, directionless, because of what Kabuto just told him.

 

“I'm not.” Kabuto says, sighing heavily. “I'm sure you see why that's a problem, don't you?”

 

Of course he does. Suigetsu is one of Orochimaru's many nephews. Nothing is more surprising than that.

 

Violent, childish and unpredictable. That's how Kabuto describes him. Naruto wants to add “professional actor” to that, because he hasn't shown any of those qualities to him and his friends so far. They just thought he was weird. Odd. Something was...off, and none of them knew why.

 

Now Naruto does.

 

Fuck.

 

“Why has he latched onto Sasuke, then?” Naruto demands, mind running through countless possibilities. “He knows that we're at war, right?”

 

“Careful, you almost sound jealous.” Kabuto teases. At Naruto's murderous look, he hastily  explains: “He's rebelling. He was never considered to one of Uncle's heirs. He doesn't have the temperament for organized crime. Suigetsu thought Uncle would change his mind when he got older but he hasn't, so now he's lashing out.”

 

“By hanging out with the Uchiha?” Naruto exclaims, incredulous. “That'll get him killed before it gets him promoted.”

 

Kabuto snorts, shaking his head. “You would think, wouldn't you? But he's one of Uncle's favorites—” He hisses it like the words burn his tongue. “—so he gets away with plenty that the rest of us couldn't dream of.”

 

Naruto can relate to that, can't he?

 

Tch.

 

“So what do you want from me?” Naruto asks. Kabuto wouldn't be telling him shit unless he thought he could benefit from it.

 

Kabuto crosses his legs, adjusting in his seat. He looks at Naruto over his glasses and smirks, absently fiddling with his nails.

 

“He's slippery and...overambitious, to put it lightly. I suspect that he's only getting in good with Sasuke so he can take him out later. Then he'll show it off to my Uncle like a prize, as a way to prove himself. You don't want that, do you? And I don't want some weak little shit potentially taking my spot. Do you understand what I'm getting at?” Kabuto drawls, tilting his head as he waits for Naruto's answer.

 

Naruto blinks, absorbing Kabuto's words. This is terrible, what the other boy is implying. But this is the life they live. Cutthroat and ruthless.

 

He'd destroy the whole world to protect Sasuke. No matter what’s happened between them—what _keeps_ happening between them— that fact won't change. He can't let a threat like this go unnoticed, but if he brings it to anyone else, they might say he's jealous just like Kabuto did.

 

And, when we really get down to it, Naruto doesn't want his spot taken either.

 

As fucked up as that sounds.

 

“I'll make sure that he's where you need him to be and I won't ask what you plan to do to him.” Naruto says, sounding colder than he's ever heard himself. “If you get caught, you never saw me and we never agreed on anything, alright?”

 

They can work out the specifics later. Naruto just needs to get out of here, already regretting agreeing to this.

 

Kabuto grins, eyes crinkled up like he's pleased. “Of course, Naruto.” He says, lightly. “I knew I could count on you. Out of all of them, you always had the best eyes.”

 

Naruto doesn't know what he means by that, and he won't dare ask.

* * *

 

 **C**.

 

 

They don't hear from Suigetsu for a few weeks. One day he's there, yucking it up with the crew, and the next day, he's gone. Poof, just like that, he's —

 

Gone.

 

Naruto calls Neji in a panic after the third day, speaking gibberish as he breaks down. Neji rushes over, skipping the door so Kushina doesn't get alerted, using Naruto's tiny bedroom window to slip in and surrounding Naruto as best he can.

 

“Tell me what's wrong.” Neji asks, voice deceptively calm even though he's freaking out, too. He's always hated seeing Naruto in a state, hates that he's usually powerless to stop it, and Naruto hates that he always puts it on Neji to carry all of his emotional weight.

 

“I fucked up.” Naruto manages to get out, gripping Neji for dear life. “I fucked up so bad and I don't think I can take it back.”

 

Is he crying? Is he making any sense? He can't tell.

 

“I—” He begins, ready to bare it all.

 

Neji pulls away sharply, grabbing Naruto's face to get him to focus. He shakes his head hard, staring deeply into Naruto's eyes.

 

“Don't tell me.” He says fiercely. Naruto hiccups a sob but manages to nod. “If it's done, If there's no changing it, don't tell me. That's what Fugaku-san always says. Take it to your grave.”

 

He wishes that he could. He prayed that it would stay buried,  but it didn't. Of course it didn't. When does Naruto ever get what he wants?

 

But speaking of want, Naruto isn't thinking clearly. He's too raw, too open, too afraid and desperate for comfort that he surges forward and kisses Neji before he can stop himself.

 

He expects to be punched, or for Neji to shake his head in that disappointed way he does when Naruto's acting like a fool—but that's not what happens. Neji looks at him, eyes wide, silently asking for permission in their quiet language. Naruto nods, eyes fluttering closed when Neji kisses him again, sighing when he finally gets to card his hands through the other boy's hair.

 

Damn, it's even softer than he thought.

 

They don't talk about it, after.

How far they went.

 

Best not to advertise that when things are already so tense.

 

Sasuke's constantly in a bad mood. He's annoyed that Suigetsu disappeared without a word, just like that. Naruto forces himself to shrug casually, feigning innocence. None of the others were overly attached to him so they shrug it off, too.

 

Life goes.

 

Naruto finds himself confused, unsure what he should do now that he's gotten involved with both Sasuke and Neji. They already fight over him enough as it is. They'd probably kill each other if they duked it out in the hopes of winning Naruto's affections, too.

 

He can't bring himself to call things off with Sasuke—if they were even on to begin with—but he can't help but to be drawn to Neji as well.

 

He's known them both too long. How they are on the inside, how thoughtful and gentle they are in quiet moments.

 

Worst of all, he knows how they both fuck.

 

So there's that.

 

Ahh, what a mess.

 

Naruto expects for it to come to a head—the long looks, the secret touches, the jealous glares — all from Neji's end. Sasuke's none the wiser, paying more attention to Naruto now that his shiny new distraction is gone. Sasuke starts showering him with affection, buying him things, paying for his meals again. The attention is nice, but—

 

Naruto doesn't think Neji will be able to take it much longer.

 

He was never one to share.

 

Then, it ends like this:

 

One night they're meeting at the new safehouse. A tiny loft above a plain, innocuous deli, gifted from Fugaku to Sasuke in a vote of confidence right after his 18th birthday. The old man thinks he's getting better. No, that's not right. Sasuke hasn't sent anyone to the hospital in weeks so Fugaku has to show that he's proud somehow, right?

 

The deli is Sasuke's to run. He can do whatever he wants with it, so his first decision is to make the empty upstairs a cool place for them to hang out, away from their parents prying eyes.

 

Neji and Naruto meet there first. Naruto felt sick all day so he didn't go out with the boys earlier, and Neji had personal business to attend to so he didn't, either.

 

It's awkward, being just the two of them. Naruto tactfully avoided the subject as long as he could, but now Neji's looking at him from the sides of his eyes—borderline pleading—and Naruto feels so fucking guilty but he grabs Neji and kisses him anyway, crowding into his space like he's trying to meld them together.

 

“Thank god.” Neji sighs between kisses. “I thought I pressured you before.”

 

“No,” Naruto says, trying to steal the air from the other boy's lungs. “Trust me: I wanted it.”

 

It feels all types of grimy to do this in Sasuke's new place, but he can't help himself. Neji’s hands are all over him and Naruto considers throwing caution to wind so he can drop to his knees and blow Neji like he’s wanted to since they first hooked up.

 

A door opens downstairs, startling them. If they weren't so trained to notice such things, they wouldn't have heard it. Neji pulls away sharply, giving Naruto a look that screams of promise later, taking the time to smooth out his rumpled shirt and clear his throat.

 

Naruto does the same, counting down from ten to ease his excitement. He sits on the couch to seem casual, pulling out his phone to distract himself as they wait for Sasuke to come upstairs.

 

The others are probably with him, too, so Naruto hopes that no one will notice anything out of the ordinary. Just in case, he crosses his legs to hide his crotch from view as he wills down is growing problem.

 

Neji puts on his best smirk, ready to welcome the others when they come in, stopping only to send a slightly amused, secret look to Naruto at the last second.

 

Naruto grins back, feeling stupidly giddy, tingling all over from the warmth in Neji's eyes.

 

A bullet comes through the door, finding its mark in Neji's right shoulder.

 

Naruto's head whips to the door, then back to Neji, watching in horror as blood blossoms on his friend's shirt like a budding flower. There's air stuck in his throat from the shocked gasp he pulled in, so he can't shout, can't scream, can't say anything as Neji stumbles back, absently reaching for his wound.

 

Naruto springs up, tackling Neji before another bullet is fired and embeds itself in the wall behind them.

 

Neji groans, grunting against the pain, but Naruto couldn't care less. If he hadn't acted just then, Neji's brains would have been sprayed all across the floor.

 

Naruto drags him behind the couch, ducking other shells as they're fired off in rapid succession. He knows that Sasuke's hidden a gun in here; probably the same one he had in his room at the Uchiha compound. A black, high-powered handgun, meant for protection. Naruto thinks this counts as trying to protect himself so he racks his brain trying to figure out where it would be.

 

“Naruto,” Neji says quietly, dragging him from his thoughts. “Run.”

 

“I'm not going to fucking leave you, dumbass.” Naruto hisses back immediately, making Neji smile, both amused and pained. “I just need to find—”

 

The door gets kicked open before he can move, thunderous boots making their way over the threshold.

 

Fuck.

 

He looks up and sees boys his own age. Kids, really, but their expressions are black and their eyes are dead, so he knows they won't hesitate to kill him. There's a set of twins—they're fucking eerie and they move like one—and a giant brute of a boy who looks like he eats little kids for breakfast.

 

The odds aren't good.

 

Shit.

 

Suigetsu strolls in after them, eyes wild. Naruto damn near swallows his tongue when he sees him, shocked beyond belief. He's pretty sure he gasps but he can't be sure, struggling when Suigetsu's hand snakes out and starts to drag him from behind the couch, muttering nonsense as he does it.

 

There's a fresh burn climbing up his face, an obvious sign of torture that he endured very recently. It's grotesque and it looks extremely painful —staring from the temple and curving down underneath his chin to hide beneath his collar.

 

It looks like someone held his face to a hot stove, leaving him there even as he screamed and sizzled.

 

Naruto swallows thickly, grimacing when Suigetsu tugs his hair back so he can look into his eyes.

 

He leans in close to Naruto, hissing lowly; “I know I was you, you fucker. You never say shit but your eyes don't lie.”

 

Naruto can't say anything, can't make sense of that before Suigetsu's punching him with his free hand, knocking the wind out of him. He coughs, trying to raise a hand to protect himself but then one of the other boys is grabbing his arms and yanking them back, just shy of dislocating his shoulders.

 

Naruto grunts, trying to keep eye contact with Suigetsu so he won't focus on Neji. He's not sure how far the other boy is planning to go, but he doesn't want Neji to be a part of it.

 

It's obvious that Suigetsu's high on something. His pupils are blown wide and he keeps losing focus, so that makes him even more unpredictable right now. There's nothing that Naruto can say to make this right, Nothing at all, but maybe he can try to calm him down.

 

“Sui—” He tries, earning himself another punch. This one's hard enough to have his ears ringing, disorienting him.

 

Suigetsu chuckles wildly, shaking his head. “Shut the fuck up. You don't get to talk.” He points to his face, finger shaking as he makes Naruto look at him. “You see this shit? This is never going to go away. Never! I'm gonna look like this for the rest of my fucking life!”

 

He takes a shuddering breath, gazing at Naruto with all the hate he can muster. “I should just kill you.”

 

That’s fair. Naruto can’t really argue with that, to be honest.

 

“But I have a better idea. You're gonna get one, too.” He finishes, nodding to himself like he's a genius.

 

No.

 

Nonononono.

_Fuck._

 

Naruto struggles harder, trying to get away, but he can't move with his arms held and the knee pressing into his chest. Suigetsu straddles his middle, looking down at him with a crazed smile as he pulls a knife out of his pocket.

 

“How should I do it?” He mumbles to no one in particular. “Ooh, I know! Do you want to know?” He asks Naruto, forcing him to nod his head like he's agreeing.

 

“I'm gonna make you some whiskers! Sasuke said you were sly like a fox and you know what, I can see totally see it! Isn't that cute?” At Naruto's terrified silence, he laughs loudly, wiping away an imaginary tear.

 

“I'm gonna cut you now, okay?” Suigetsu says, way too calmly for what he's about to do.

 

“Plea—” Is all Naruto gets out before the first cut to his skin.

 

It burns. Worse than anything he's ever felt before. The scream that forces its way out of his throat sounds awful to his own ears, but he can't stop. Neji manages to drag himself over, shouting Naruto's name, but then he's being held down too by one of the other boys and forced to watch.

 

“Don't worry,” Suigetsu says, admiring his handiwork after he finishes the first cut. “You're going into shock. You won't be able to feel it in a moment.”

 

That’s a lie. Naruto feels the whole thing.

 

He's not sure how long it takes, lost in a haze of pain and blood.

 

The fourth cut is deeper, noticeably so. Suigetsu adds more pressure as he switches cheeks, maybe unintentionally, lost in his mania as he is.

 

Naruto gasps, choking on the blood that starts to enter his mouth, doing his best not to move too much so he doesn't end up with a permanent cheshire smile. It'll be hard enough to look at himself after this is over—if he's allowed to live —but he doesn't want to get his mouth sliced open, too.

 

He manages to look to Neji, too beautiful for words, the other boy quietly sobbing silently into the floorboards as he watches on. They make eye contact for one short, torturous moment—Naruto can barely see him through his tears but he clearly makes it out when Neji mouths that he loves him.

 

Oh.

 

Okay.

 

He's really going to die, then. Good to know.

 

But he doesn't. As soon as Suigetsu finishes the last cut the calvary busts in, lead by Kiba. He swings his trusty bat, catching one of the twins in the side of the head hard enough for them to hear a _crack_. He falls and doesn't get up again, no doubt concussed.

 

Shikamaru descends on the other twin who’s holding Neji down, twisting his wrist until it breaks, hitting him with flurry of punches that Naruto couldn't hope to keep up with.

 

Choji tackles the bigger boy who was holding Naruto’s arms, punching him in the throat before he has a chance to defend himself.

 

Suigetsu pulls his gun and points it at Naruto's head right as Sasuke gets to them, cocking it in warning.

 

“Don't touch me.” He hisses, recoiling from Sasuke's murderous gaze. “I'll shoot him. I swear I fucking will.”

 

Naruto's afraid.

 

Not for his own life—He's already resigned himself to dying. He might even prefer it at this point — No, he's afraid for Suigetsu and afraid of what Sasuke's going to do.

 

He's never seen Sasuke’s eyes so empty. Flat, lifeless. This is the angriest he's ever been and it shows. Naruto can't hear the scuffle behind him anymore. Too focused on the way Sasuke's mouth twists and his fists clench.

 

“Sa—” He starts to say, voice hoarse and quiet.

 

Stupid. He should’ve known that'd set him off.

 

Sasuke looks at him for a single second, pupils dilating wide. He looks like a demon, and Naruto can't catch his flinch when Sasuke _kicks_ the gun from Suigetsu's hands, shocking the both of them, landing a punch on the side of Suigetsu's face that’s hard enough to knock him clear off Naruto's form.

 

He lands in a heap, spitting blood and the remnants of a tooth, staring down at it like he's not sure what he's looking at. He looks up to Sasuke, flinching back at what he sees in the other boy's eyes. Suigetsu scrambles up and runs, taking off through the darkened door and hitting the stairs two at a time.

 

Idiot, Naruto thinks.

 

Never show your back to a beast.

 

Sasuke takes off after him, stopping only to grab the bat that Kiba dropped after he landed the first hit. Naruto tries to protest, throat croaking with garbled words. It takes three tries, but he manages to get his feet underneath him.

 

Shikamaru’s putting pressure on Neji's wound with one hand, talking rapidly into his phone as he calls an ambulance. He notices Naruto trying to go after Sasuke, grunting out a stern: “Naruto—!”

 

“Stay with Neji.” Naruto slurs, feeling lightheaded. Kiba and Choji are too busy securing their attackers so they aren't quick enough to stop him, either.

 

He stumbles down the stairs, stopping every few steps to catch his breath. He uses his shoulder to push the door open at the bottom of the stairs, looking around into the black night for Sasuke and Suigetsu.

 

They didn't get far.

 

Suigetsu's on the ground, leg bent oddly. Naruto realizes that Sasuke must have hit him with the bat from behind, shattering his knee. Naruto swallows, forcing himself to walk forward to calm Sasuke down.

 

Suigetsu's dragging himself backward, trying to escape, shaking his head as he stares into Sasuke's eyes.

 

“You d-don't understand,” Suigetsu stammers, holding his hands up to shield his face. “He—”

 

The first _crack_ echoes so loudly that Naruto has to fight not to throw up. Suigetsu screams, hands hovering over his second broken knee. He looks up—the fear of God in his eyes, black fear and red-hot pain turning his face an array of colors— catches Naruto's gaze as he stumbles up behind Sasuke, silently pleading for help.

 

Naruto can do nothing. Nothing at all. He raises his hands to grab the bat, yelling at the top of his lungs for Sasuke to quit it — but he's not quick enough.

 

Or, maybe Sasuke just can't hear him.

 

Not when he gets like this.

 

Naruto realizes, coldly, that Sasuke isn't going to stop.

 

_Oh._

 

Suigetsu takes the bat to the jaw, blood flying out of his mouth as more teeth find their way onto the pavement. Sasuke swings again. And again. And again.

 

Again, again, again—

 

Naruto's pretty sure he's crying. Hot, ugly tears. Not like the ones the movies. He's tugging on Sasuke's arm, digging his feet into the ground, desperately trying to stop Sasuke from beating someone to death right in front of him. He can't cross this line. Not right now, not for Naruto.

 

Suigetsu's crying out with each blow, his blood staining the street: first with random splatter and then with a slow puddle around his face.

 

Naruto's vaguely aware that Kiba and Choji have joined them—Choji's pulling at Sasuke's middle in an almost hug. Kiba's got Sasuke's other arm and his face is ashen gray. They're both shouting too, joining in with Naruto's raucous yelling.

 

There's a crowd forming, watching them. The people —neighbors, shopkeepers, random faces that he sees everyday. They're staring. They look horrified, scandalized, deeply disturbed and afraid. But none of them move. None of them try to help. They stare and cover their mouths with their hands, but no one's willing to get involved.

 

Because they're afraid they'll be next, when Sasuke's done.

 

Naruto feels his hands go limp, his body giving up. Something deep inside him breaks— his very core aches and he can't breathe. Sasuke finally looks at him— first at Naruto's hands that aren't holding him anymore and then deeply in Naruto's eyes.

 

Naruto wishes he could say he was surprised when he sees—

 

Nothing. No light of recognition, no realization of what he's doing. He looks at Naruto but he really doesn't see him at all.

 

All Naruto can hear is the sound of wind going passed his ears. There's sirens in the distance, Kiba and Choji are still shouting, Suigetsu is still softly begging for his life.

 

(The fight's mostly left him. It won’t be long.)

 

—but Naruto can't hear any of it. All he hears is Sasuke's hand tighten on the hilt of the bat, his teeth as they grind with resolve. The small breaths he takes as he rears up to swing the bat again. Naruto watches—feeling loose and sluggish as he brings it down one final time.

 

Suigetsu's head _snaps_ to the side with one loud, final echo.

 

He doesn't move again.

 

Naruto isn't sure how long they stand there, staring down at his body. Kiba and Choji have quieted, horror robbing them of their voices. Choji's holding himself around the middle now, while Kiba runs a shaking hand through his hair, muttering a heartfelt: “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Every few seconds.

 

Naruto takes a step back, looking at Sasuke with empty eyes. He's never been so scared in his life. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say.

 

But it doesn't matter. Sasuke looks at him, eyes flooding with terror-filled realization. He drops the bat, flinching when it clatters on the ground, reaching out to Naruto abortively.

 

“Naruto—” He whispers, tears pooling in his eyes like a flash flood.

 

“You need help.” Naruto declares, more serious than he's ever heard himself. Black closes in on his vision since his adrenaline has all but dried up, and Sasuke reaches out just quick enough to stop him from crumpling to the ground.

 

It's chaos, after.

 

That's the only way to describe it.


	5. Five.

* * *

 

**Five.**

 

“It's usually the people who appear normal who are feeling the most primal terror.”

―Sally Fields, _Maniac._

* * *

 

 

**A.**

 

“I didn't think you'd actually call.” Gaara admits to him, watching Naruto carefully.

 

He had no choice in the matter, really. After meeting with Kabuto—after losing his shit over the mounting evidence that the Uchiha are behind the disappearances — Naruto knew he needed backup for what he has to do.

 

Gaara's seemingly the only person in town that he _doesn't_ have bad blood with, so his options are limited.

 

“You said you could help,” Is all Naruto can say in response, shrugging. “I'd be stupid not to take you up on that.”

 

Especially since they're staking out the alley to see if the mystery girl returns. It’s the best lead they have to go off of and he’ll be damned if he goes to Kabuto for any more information. Naruto will just tactfully leave out the part where he didn't trust Gaara to keep a level head before because he's worried about his sister.

 

Some things are better left unsaid.

 

He gets the feeling that Gaara figured that out, anyway. He’s the observant type, picking up on little cues that Naruto wasn’t aware that he dropped. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Naruto would rather have a guy with a wild look in his eyes at his side than none at all.

 

They're crouched low, hiding in a dimly-lit, sub-level stairwell in the alley that goes god knows where. Naruto peaks up through the railing periodically, not surprised that he sees no one, but its still fairly early in the night so he's not giving up just yet.

 

He senses that something is going to jump off tonight. He has no idea what, but he's going to be front and center when it happens.

 

Gaara keeps watching him—his piercing, unnerving stare burning a hole into the side of Naruto's face. He tries to ignore it but it's awkward and tense since it's just the two of them. Naruto gets the distinct feeling that Gaara wants to say something but is hesitating, for some reason.

 

“You really don't remember me?” Gaara questions quietly, eyes guarded and low. Naruto blinks, wholly thrown off because:

 

Um? What the hell?

 

“What?” Naruto whispers back in absolute confusion, looking away from the empty alleyway to regard Gaara fully. “Should I?”

 

He feels like he'd remember someone so distinctive and dare he say, menacing? People who look like Gaara don't walk around town without turning a few heads.

 

“We met before, when we were younger.” Gaara says matter-of-factly, like that clears up anything. It doesn't, and Naruto feel his face screwing up as he tries to comb his memory. He met plenty of people when he was younger, so that vague answer does nothing to narrow it down.

 

Gaara rolls his eyes, sighing, clearly exasperated or very close to it. “My last name is Shukaku, if that helps.”

 

God-fucking-dammit.

 

Naruto really has the bad habit of colluding with the enemy, doesn't he?

 

Except, that's not really true. Not entirely. The Shukaku Clan aren't a direct enemy of the Uchiha. They have a working relationship —not exactly friendly, but not openly hostile, either— functioning like that coworker you hate but you can at least trust that he'll get the job done.

 

The mention of Gaara's last name stirs up a memory: Naruto’s six or seven years old, standing in the middle of an ornate rock garden. He's waiting on his father, Hizashi and Fugaku to finish their talks with the Shukaku head. Minato was never officially part of either clan—but he is a skilled negotiator. Minato talks while Hizashi frowns and Fugaku glares. Somehow, it works.

 

(Strangely—or not, depending on who you ask—years later, Naruto, Neji, and Sasuke follow suit with that same, exact formula.)

 

Itachi is the only child allowed inside the meeting room. So wise and able beyond his years. He'll be the next head so he has to get a feel for these things early. Sasuke's quietly bitter about that, drawing absent patterns in the sand as he pouts. Neji is enamored with the koi fish in the pond, watching them swim in lazy patterns. Naruto's bored, not interested in what either boy is doing, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

 

There's a boy standing by the shōji doors, hiding behind one of the wooden columns that decorate the porch. He's got wilder hair that Naruto's—if that's even possible — and his one visible eye is piercing as its trained on them.

 

Naruto raises his hand in greeting, smiling bright and friendly, only for it to fall when the other boy immediately flees.

 

It's like that every time the boy comes with his father for the meetings over the next few months. He watches Naruto like a hawk but retreats when he's seen. He gets closer every once in a while, clearly curious, but he barely makes a sound and leaves as quick as he comes. Its disappointing for Naruto because he's always willing to make new friends. He doesn't understand why the boy won't speak to him, so it's up to Minato to inform him that some people are just plain shy.

 

Naruto really can't relate to that.

 

“You look like you remembered something.” Gaara says, giving Naruto a knowing look.

 

“You could have told me who you were,” Naruto replies petulantly, crossing his arms. “And why did you pretend like you didn't know who I was?”

 

“It's not wise to announce who you are when someone could be listening.” Gaara mutters. That's a fair point. “I knew you probably wouldn't remember me. It's been years. It would be easier to get you to trust me if you thought I was just some random idiot off the street.”

 

Also fair.

 

But still, he doesn't like being lied to.

 

That's not really important, though. Now he knows that Gaara can handle himself at least. The Shukaku aren't by any means soft.

 

The stories he's heard aren't for the faint of heart.

 

“You haven't been in Konoha this whole time, have you? How did I miss that?” Naruto asks. He saw plenty of Shukaku clan members come and go and doesn't recall seeing Gaara with them after that brief time when Naruto would notice him watching.

 

“My parents got divorced.” Gaara explains tonelessly. “My mother took me with her when she left the city. My father let her because he never liked me much and he was happy to be rid of me, but he made my siblings stay with him.”

 

Yikes.

 

“Yeesh,” Naruto replies with a grimace, trying not to let pity creep into his tone. “Did he tell you that?”

 

Gaara shrugs, calm and nonchalant. It doesn't hurt anymore, then, Naruto notes. That's good.  “More or less. He's an abusive piece of trash and always has been, but he's dying now. Cancer. He asked me back to make amends. That's why I'm here.”

 

Naruto blinks, unsure what to say. That's really fucking heavy and something he's wholly unfamiliar with. He doesn’t have the words to relate to the complexity of feelings Gaara must feel towards his father.

 

Besides that, he can't believe Gaara told him that the Shukaku head is dying so easily. That seems like it's a well guarded secret, one that could send the rest clans scrambling in a desperate bid to take control of their territory. Gaara must have faith in him if he'd tell him something so important so freely.

 

Interesting.

 

“Tell me,” Naruto says slowly, picking his words very carefully. “Why was your sister in this part of town, anyway?”

 

That's been bugging him for a while. Temari Shukaku isn't the type to be caught slipping. She's guarded, tough as nails, and can usually fight her way out of anything. How they managed to catch a girl like that is beyond him.

 

Gaara's eyes grow shifty, darting and unsure. He licks his lips, causing a wave of nervousness to pass over Naruto. He hates that look, hates it even more when surly, confident guys like Gaara get stricken with it every once in awhile.

 

Fear.

 

Pure, primal fear: the fear of knowing more than you should, of trying to trust when you've been taught that you shouldn't.

 

Worrying that one wrong move—a slip of the tongue, and unconvincing lie—could get you killed, just like that.

 

Naruto knows that look. Saw it reflected back in the mirror for far too long, before.

 

“Don’t repeat this to anyone.” Gaara demands gruffly.

 

Not to be funny, but, who on earth would he tell?

 

Haku's nowhere to be found and his other friends are, well…

 

“I won't.”

 

Gaara sighs, looking away before he speaks. “My sister has been seeing someone in the Uchiha Clan.” He says, surprising the hell out of Naruto.

“Romantically. She won't tell me who, but its been going on for a while and she obviously hasn't told anyone because—you know why. But, they argued that night and I think she was distracted and upset, so that's probably how they managed to take her.”

 

Shit.

 

This just keeps getting more and more messy, doesn't it?

 

What has he gotten himself into?

 

Gaara's not done. He sighs heavily out of his nose, swallowing thickly. “I think it was about — she told me before that she thought she might be pregnant. If anything happened to her, I—”

 

Whoa.

 

Naruto places a calming hand on the other man's shoulder, sensing that Gaara's close to getting lost in his emotions. Of course he is. Fuck, that's a lot. Naruto sends a tiny prayer out into the universe that Temari and her baby are okay, even as dread grabs him by the throat and refuses to let go.

 

“Hey, we're going to find her, okay? Haku, too. I don't know what's going on but it's up to us to get to the bottom of it.” Naruto says firmly. Gaara won't look at him, but eventually he nods.

 

Gaara goes to say something else—probably something even more depressing and heartbreaking—but then his face twists in concentration, announcing that: “Someone is coming.”  

 

Naruto whips his head around, looking up and squinting into the dark.

 

Sure enough, someone walks up, shoes clacking on the pavement. It's a girl; average height, reddish hair, fairly skinny, glasses— she matches the description that Jimmy gave him perfectly.

 

Naruto pauses, not sure if he should jump out and grab her or wait to see what she does.

 

“Fuck.” She mumbles urgently, staring down at her phone like its the cause of all her problems. “Hurry up.”

 

Two other shadows materialize out of nowhere not too long after, quietly approaching the girl.

 

“You see anybody?” One of the shadows says, clearly male.

 

Naruto, for the life of him, can't see what he looks like in the dim light. No amount of squinting changes that it's just too dark to make out the boy's features.

 

“Nah.” The other replies. “Told you no one would come through here after everyone started talking about it. We'll have to try somewhere else.”

 

Gaara and Naruto share a look, nodding to each other as they ready themselves to spring forth and catch them by surprise.

 

They don't get the chance before a fourth, much larger shadow enters the alley. Naruto nearly flinches, a sense of foreboding coming over him so quickly that he shivers.

 

“Who the hell—?” One of the boys says, but then he's flying backward into a pile of trash from the weight of the man's punch.

 

Wait, what?

 

The other boy curses, reaching in his pocket for a weapon but he's not nearly quick enough; the giant grabs him by the collar and tosses him to the ground like he weighs nothing, a sickening _crunch_ echoing through the alley as he lands on his shoulder wrong. The boy cries out, pained and disoriented, while the girl screams and tries to flee.

 

The giant steps into the light, face still half-cast in shadow. Naruto stares, marveling at the guy's sheer mass; He's almost as huge as Kisame, just as muscular, too. Naruto doesn't recognize him and doesn't understand why he's here, but it doesn't matter because he's roughing up the people Naruto needs to talk to and that can't go on.

 

Gaara seems to agree. He jumps out from the hiding place and tackles the boy who was thrown into the trash right as he's getting up, smashing his head into the ground before he can protest. The boy doesn't go down without a fight though, struggling by throwing punches and cursing up a storm while he does it.

 

The giant man grabs at the girl but she's quicker than him, pulling out a taser and pressing it to the man's chest as she releases the trigger.

 

Shit.

 

She aimed for his heart but narrowly missed. She means business.

 

Maybe he's too full of adrenaline,  or maybe there's too much muscle, but the man doesn't start twitching like someone usually would. He grunts, dropping to one knee while clutching his chest, distracted just enough for the girl to get out of his hold and make her escape.

 

Fuck!

 

Naruto starts after her—fingers reaching out to snag her by the hair—when a large hand wraps around his ankle tight, stopping him short.

 

“Wait,” the big man says gruffly, startling him.

 

The boy with the broken arm managed to hobble away in the scuffle, Naruto notes absently. Damn. But at least Gaara's got the other one knocked unconscious, splayed out on the pavement like a ragdoll. He look up at Naruto with concerned eyes but he hesitates to attack the man who's got Naruto in a vice grip.

 

A wise decision. Naruto thinks.

 

They're both tough but they're nothing compared to this guy, it seems.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Naruto demands roughly, trying and failing to shake him off. How did he know to be here? Who's he affiliated with? Naruto's never seen him before but suddenly he knows to be in this alley _right_ when Naruto's looking into this lead? Something isn't right.

 

“You're Naruto, aren't you?” He asks gravely. “Naruto Uzumaki?”

 

Well, that's fucking great, isn't it?

 

Ah, glorious notoriety. Always a killer.

 

“And you are?” Gaara asks for him, slowly advancing. He's giving Naruto a look like maybe he's about to do something stupid but Naruto frantically shakes his head to deny him.

 

“Zabuza.” The man says grimly, staring up into Naruto's eyes. “Sorry, but I had to do something. There were more coming but I took care of them. Didn't realize you'd be here.” When Naruto blinks at him, he continues, tone softer than it was before. “It's okay. I know Haku.”

 

He does?

 

How?

 

“Really?” Naruto questions around a gasp, desperately hoping the man knows something. “Also, can you let go of my ankle, now? You're cutting off the circulation.”

 

It feels like the damn thing is going to fall off.

 

It's Zabuza's turn to blink at him. He looks down, realizing that he's still holding Naruto in place without meaning to. He let's go—quite sheepishly —standing to his full height not unlike a redwood in a forest.

 

“Sorry.” He says, grimacing. “We should talk.”

 

Naruto can't say no to that, can he?

 

* * *

 

Zabuza, as it turns out, is a mercenary. A “hired gun”, as he says, carefully and tacifully. Naruto knows better than that: he's a hitman, and assassin if you will, but only on the side.

 

How someone like this knows the sweet and kind Haku, Naruto has no idea.

 

“He took your warnings seriously about this place.” Zabuza informs him. “Said he needed someone to watch his back while he was poking around. That didn't go so well, as you can probably guess.“ He throws the knocked out kidnapper over his shoulder with ease. Oh, how the tables have turned, Naruto thinks, because now the boy is the one getting kidnapped.

 

Does that count as poetic justice?

 

“Where are you going with him?” Naruto asks, having to jog slightly to keep up with Zabuza's long, purposeful strides. He's not sure that its right to be snatching kids while he's looking for other snatched kids. His feelings on this are very complicated. “We should question him to see what he knows.”

 

“He's out cold,” Gaara supplies unhelpfully. “It'll be hours before he wakes up. We can't stay here; someone might have heard the screaming.”

 

Zabuza nods, mumbling a quiet: “Agreed. I have a car parked nearby and a place where we can talk safety. Let's go.” Naruto doesn't like being bossed around, but Zabuza has a large, commanding presence so it's hard to argue with him when he speaks.

 

So he shuts up and can do nothing but follow.

 

Strange, to have gone from no allies a few hours ago to gaining two people who want to help. What a difference a day makes.

 

Stranger still, Zabuza moves with the grace of a cat, quietly getting them to the car without being seen. It makes sense that he'd be skilled in sneaking and subterfuge— given that he's a part-time hitman—but his imposing size seems like it would make such things impossible. Naruto can't imagine Zabuza being the last thing he saw before he died.

 

He shudders at the thought.

 

Zabuza gingerly places the boy on the trunk, careful not to jostle him too much. He tears a strip from the boy's shirt and uses it to bind his arms. The gentleness he shows has both Gaara and Naruto raising their eyebrows, giving each other subtle looks as they try to figure out what the big man's deal is. Such a switch from before, when he was perfectly fine cracking skulls open and taking tasers to the chest like a champ.

 

It's kind of weird.

 

They ride away in silence.

 

Or, it's mostly silent, because halfway through Zabuza's sending him little looks out of the corner of his eyes, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they wait for the red light to turn.

 

“You're probably wondering —” He starts lowly, a bit hesitant. Oh, Naruto's wondering about _plenty._ “Well, I'm a youth counselor, for my day job. I don't want kids to go down the same path I did.”

 

Gaara can’t catch his snort from the back seat, turning from watching the scenery pass by the window to meet Zabuza's eyes in the rearview mirror. Naruto blinks, brows raised, completely surprised by that admission.

 

What an interesting and unique juxtaposition.

 

“I owed the wrong people money and got stuck doing what I do now. But I do want to help kids like him get out of the life, if I can.” He continues, eyes going far off with memories. Probably the unpleasant kind.

 

“Look, I'm not here to judge you.” Naruto says simply. “I'm not exactly an upstanding citizen myself.”

 

“That makes two of us.” Gaara cosigns from the back.

 

“But you're trying to change that,” Zabuza argues, addressing Naruto. “Haku told me all about you. You're doing what you can. He knew you'd come back to help him even though it's hard for you to be here.”

 

It warms Naruto that Haku had such faith in him. Maybe it's a little unfounded and a whole lot bias on Haku's part, but it's good that someone can still see good within him.

 

(One look, just a glance—so very fleeting, and Naruto knows. He just knows, from the warmth in Zabuza's eyes while he talks of Haku. He knows and he won't say anything because everyone deserves a little something good, sometimes.)

 

“I know he's not dead and I know he'll be happy when you come for him.”

 

“Do you know if he met with anyone here?” Naruto asks. “Where he was headed? I have his phone but it gave me nothing.”

 

He spent hours combing through it for any texts or notes but nothing was relevant to the investigation. Maybe Zabuza would know more since he was acting as Haku's security.

 

“He was supposed to meet someone at a club but she backed out at the last minute. Got too spooked I think.” Zabuza informs. She? Who could that be? “She seemed to know a lot so it might be worth trying to find her. I was going to do that after I found you.”

 

“Do you know this girl's name?”

 

“She just left an initial. The letter A. Didn't want to say her real name out loud in case someone was listening.”

 

That doesn't ring any bells. Naruto doesn't know anyone that goes by “A” and he can't think of anyone Uchiha with that initial, either. Who the hell could she be?

 

“Alright, so we find this ‘A’ somehow and she might have answers about the girls and Haku.” Naruto confirms, mainly to himself. More questions than answers, as usual.

 

“In the meantime, after we finish talking back at my place. I'm going to interrogate the boy and see what he knows.” Zabuza says gravely. At Naruto's questioning, slightly wary look, he clarifies. “Don’t worry, I'm not going to torture him. I have other ways of making people talk.”

 

“I'm sure you do.” Gaara mutters. Naruto gives him a sharp look of warning but Gaara only smirks before looking back out the window.

 

“From the way you're talking I'm guessing you don't want me to be around for that?” Naruto asks.

 

“No.” Zabuza says firmly. “I'll tell you everything I know and whatever the boy says but Haku made me swear to keep you clean in all of this. I know that's not entirely possible but I'm going to do my best. No matter what happens, he just wants you to be happy.”

 

Naruto's heart _thumps_ painfully at that, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and loss for his friend. He prays to God that he'll be able to see Haku again, to hold him close and thank him for being so wholesome and good, even though Naruto really doesn't deserve him.

 

“Okay.” Naruto says quietly, nearly too choked up to say much else.

 

They don't talk much, after that.

* * *

 

Zabuza gives him plenty when they get back to his place: the address of the club, the mysterious notes of “A” on where to meet, her phone number, the room number and spare keycard to Haku's hotel room—Naruto can't help but raise his eyebrow at that one, but Zabuza's face is made of stone so he gets no reaction.

 

Finally, He's getting somewhere. The red-haired girl might have gotten away but they do have a hostage.

 

Whatever Zabuza plans to do to him better work since he’s letting go and leaving it in his hands. But, looking at the big man as he prepares — tying the boy to a chair and searching his closet for sturdy leather belts— Naruto gets the distinct feeling that they'll have answers very soon.

 

Soon enough they're bidding each other farewell. He takes down Zabuza's number and leaves with Gaara, the older man promising to keep them updated as soon as he's finished. He doesn't think it'll take more than a day or two, give or take.

 

“Do I want to know what he's going to do with those belts?” Naruto whispers to Gaara on their way out.

 

“Probably not.” Gaara replies, looking equally as wary.

 

They take the train that heads back towards the center of town, the lateness of the hour making it too dangerous to walk that long way back. They'll get off at different stops—Naruto first, then Gaara a little ways later—and even though they're going to separate territories they sit next to each other.

 

“Thanks for your help, by the way. I really appreciate it.” Naruto says, feeling truly grateful. If the other man hadn't jumped into action they probably wouldn't have caught the boy who Zabuza's going to question.

 

Gaara shrugs, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Don't mention it. You're the one that got the information from Jimmy. Thanks for letting me back you up.”

 

Naruto grins, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment. It's been a while since he felt like he could make a new friend. Is that what they’re doing? Maybe. He’s not sure. Either way, It's kinda nice.

 

“I still really appreciate it.” Naruto reiterates, feeling bashful.

 

Gaara gives him an odd look, glancing Naruto up and down. Naruto raises an eyebrow, asking him: “What?” Since he doesn't know why Gaara's looking at him so strangely.

 

“We could celebrate now that we're closer to finding out what's going on, if you want. Back at my place.” Gaara offers lowly, staring at him, unblinking.

 

His face doesn't change and neither does his tone, but Naruto blinks in surprise regardless.

 

Alright.

 

He didn't see that coming.

 

If he's implying what Naruto thinks he's implying, then— you know what? Fuck it. Naruto's a hot-blooded 24 year old and he's had a shitty few weeks. Why the hell not?

 

There's plenty of reasons, actually, but he's not going to dwell on them at the moment.

 

“Okay.” He agrees. Simple as that. He listens to the train rattle right past his stop and thinks nothing of it.

 

**…**

Naruto wakes up to a text from his mother early in the morning. He can't tell if it's urgent or not, but, given how this week has been going he thinks it's safe to guess that it is.

 

“There's a letter for you.” The text reads. That's all. He's tempted to ask if she's read it but knowing her, she probably has.

 

Gaara sighs behind him, nestling his face further into Naruto's neck. Who would have thought that he was cuddler?

 

Or so goddamn bossy in bed. Naruto couldn't get a word in edgewise before Gaara was pushing him down and straddling him, his poison green stare freezing him in place.

 

“Let me.” He had said, low and slutry, and Naruto was more than happy to oblige.

 

“You gotta go?” Garra mumbles sleepily. His arm tightens around Naruto's middle as he says it, making him smile.

 

“Yeah. My mom's saying there's something I need to see back at the house.” Naruto confirms with a yawn. “So I'm gonna head out. Hopefully Zabuza will call us later and we can get some answers.’

 

“Okay.” Gaara mumbles again, pulling away and already closing his eyes back so he can return to dreamland.

 

Naruto hesitates, not sure if he should leave, just like that. He's usually the first to split after a casual hookup but it feels weird to do so since they're technically working together.  He also doesn't know what Gaara expects out of this, so there's that.

 

Luckily, the other man answers that question for him. He must sense Naruto's hesitation because he says, calmly, without opening his eyes—“Don't worry, I won't fall in love with you. We worked out some stress. That's all.”

 

Naruto chuckles, pulling up his pants with a sense of relief. Don't get him wrong; Gaara's very attractive, quite _skilled_ , and they're both equally out of their minds so this just might work—but the last thing he needs to do is get caught up in some whirlwind romance while the whole world is falling down around their ears.

 

Even though he'd give anything to be able to stay in bed with him for rest of the morning.

 

“So that means you never want to do this again?” Naruto quips, throwing his shirt on. Disappointing, but he'll live.

 

Gaara cracks one eye open, glaring at him with no fire behind it.

 

“I didn’t say _that_.” He mutters, making Naruto grin.

 

**…**

Yeah, he should have stayed in bed.

 

His mother's sitting at the dining room table, arms folded with a slight scowl on her face.

 

She looks up when he come in, frowning deeper and shaking her head slowly, back and forth.

 

“What did you do?” She demands curtly, eyes positively on fire as he warily sits across from her.

 

“Can you be a little more specific?” He replies automatically, without meaning to.

 

That's right, Naruto. Dig yourself in deeper.

 

Although, to be fair, he does have a laundry list that's steadily growing of things he's done since he's been back.

 

He is his mother's son because she takes some amusement in that. Her lips twitch slightly but she bites down the smile, putting on her patented stern face to lecture him.

 

“Cute.” She says dryly, rolling her eyes. “But I'm serious.”

 

She produces a letter, the top of it already carefully torn open—probably with her long, blood-red nails—that's addressed to him. His name is on it with neat, curling letters, beautiful and ornately written with a thin calligraphy pen. Formal, then, if someone took that much care.

 

Hey, at least she put the letter back into its envelope.

 

He doesn't call her on it, silently taking the letter out of her hands to read it.

 

His heart drops when he pulls out a jet black piece of paper, crisply folded in half.

 

Naruto briefly meets his mother's eyes and tries not to panic. She already is, based on the look she's sporting.

 

Fuck.

 

“When I told you to be careful,” Kushina says, lips tightly pursed, “I thought you'd actually listen to me _for once._ So, I'll ask you again: What. Did. You. Do?”

 

She has a right to be upset.

 

A Black Note. A formal message of warning from the Uchiha, dating back to the days of old. A relic from the Feudal Era—a black note meant a sword was soon to follow, parting heads from necks if you didn't change your behavior.

 

These days? A black note is...even worse.

 

There are worse things than death, sometimes.

 

For someone to write this, they'd have to be very upset. Or, they knew exactly how to get his attention, once and for all.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

It's not Sasuke's style to write such a thing — he's more likely to kick down the door and confront Naruto head on about whatever he's upset about. The others—Kiba, Shikamaru, Choji, or anyone else— don't have the jurisdiction to write one, not without express permission.

 

They're Uchiha in name, not blood.

 

Except for maybe Neji.

 

So that leaves: Neji, Itachi, or Fugaku himself. Any way you slice it, someone's very unhappy with him.

 

Fuck, fuck, and fuck again.

 

“I didn't read it. What does it say?” Kushina is shaken. She’s wholly and truly afraid. She knows the same thing he does; this came from someone with power, someone who has noticed what he's been up to, someone who knows how to get him quaking in his boots.

 

Naruto unfolds the note, taking a deep breath before he scans the looping white letters in front of him. He sucks in a deep breath, struggling to meet his mother's eyes as he reads out:

 

“ _What's a fox doing in a snake den?”_

 

Shit.

 

Someone knows about his meeting with Kabuto. That probably means that everyone does, now.

 

It's his own fault.

 

He knew better.

 

“What does that mean?” Kushina asks desperately, reaching her hand out to cover his.

 

He doesn't have the balls to answer her.

 

**C.**

Well, he’s going to see the group.

 

It can’t be avoided anymore.

 

If someone’s angry enough with him to threaten with a Black Note, he has no choice but to go and smooth things over. He can’t afford to be targeted now that he’s gotten closer to figuring out what happened to Haku, Temari, and those girls.

 

But, **_fuck_** _,_ he really doesn’t want to.

 

He nearly bites his nails down to the root while he mulls over it as the morning rolls on. This can't go well, he thinks, because he has no idea what he should say or who he should say it to.

 

But now he has to, since he's gone and fucked up the anonymity he so coveted by being seen with Kabuto, of all people.

 

The plan is simple: he still knows most of their usual haunts and was filled in by Kushina about any new spots—he could try any of their apartments, the club that Itachi runs called Ivy, Jiraiya's bar on slow days, or the compound itself. He'll leave that one for last since he'd rather not be dead center in Uchiha territory if he's considered to be an enemy now, thank you very much.

 

His mother seem to agree, having no other place to add where he could find them today. She's still frowning, eyes narrowed in thought, before she surprises him by saying: “You should take my gun.”

 

“I'm not going to shoot anyone, mom.” Naruto protests immediately, shaking his head. He knows that she's afraid for his life but that's a step too far, isn't it?

 

“I know, but you might get shot _at_ ,” Kushina counters with. She's dead serious and it makes Naruto swallow heavily. “It would give me some peace of mind if I know that you can protect yourself, at least a little. Please?” She asks quietly, pulling him in for a hug.

 

He can't argue with that. This isn't a game. He could be in serious trouble so of course his mother is going to panic. She's seen what Fugaku's capable of, still far more familiar with it than he is. Kushina's told him countless times that Naruto didn't get the _pleasure_ of seeing that old man in his prime; he settled down some after bringing children into the world.

 

Naruto can't imagine how much worse he could have been, seeing as how Fugaku wasn't exactly baking cookies and attending PTA meetings when they were young.

 

“Alright. I'll take it.” He says. But he doesn't have to like it.

 

The gun feels strangely heavy in it's holster. It represents much more than black metal and bullets, much more than simple protection. He feels too much like his old self— too ready for action and already gearing up for the worst. He prays that they're both wrong about how the day will play out.

 

It's almost noon by the time he works up enough nerve to set off.

 

It seems stupid to be so distracted when there's a target on his back, but Naruto's never been the sharpest tool in the box. He can't help but let his mind wander, lost in thought while he walks.

 

What on earth is he going to say to Sasuke? To Neji? To any of them?

 

Sorry for running off? Should he apologize for being too traumatized to stick around? Or maybe for not being able to watch Sasuke descend further into madness after he killed someone in front of him? For all the guilt he felt over that incident, since it was his own fault?

 

Or maybe he should finally get his apology for what came after. That chaos he spoke of. It’s owed to him.

 

When he laid in that hospital bed, feeling his skin slowly knitting itself back together as the days passed in a dull haze.

 

He was too medicated to scratch at it, too sad to speak when everyone came to visit him, too choked up on the rage that followed, especially when Itachi was unfortunately tasked with asking him to take the fall for Sasuke, for the good of the clan.

 

Because _yeah_ , that happened.

 

Since Sasuke was 18 at the time, and Naruto was still 17 until the end of that year. He’d get a lesser sentence. Maybe. They'd pull some strings and Naruto would only get a year, tops. The Uchiha definitely had enough power to make that happen.

 

(Not to mention that the Sarutobi owned the cops, for the most part. And in turn, the Sarutobi owed the Uchiha favors that Fugaku would be more than happy to collect.)

 

Still, none of the witnesses would speak up but no one could deny that it happened. Suigetsu was definitely dead and the police knew that one of them had something to do with it. Not one person, not a single soul was willing to point the finger at Sasuke Uchiha, for fear of it being bitten off.

 

But Naruto Uzumaki?

 

Fair game.

 

If the months that proceeded that incident hadn't happened, Naruto probably would have done it. He would have went to prison for Sasuke with no hesitation at all. He's nothing if not loyal. But when he was laying there, looking into Itachi's mournful eyes as he was forced to regurgitate Fugaku's orders, Naruto understood why he couldn't.

 

Because Itachi’s eyes said something that his mouth did not. A secret, just between the two of them. One that shook them to their very core when they quietly realized that they shared it.

 

Maybe Sasuke _needed_ to go to prison, or mental hospital at the very least. Just maybe. Maybe that way, he could get help.

 

So even as Itachi ordered him like some mindless grunt to take the fall—despite their own love for each other—despite Naruto nearly wavering in his moment of weakness, he told him no. He told him no and then he went to Fugaku and begged to be set free.

 

Naruto stops short in the middle of the street, shaking himself from his thoughts in slight confusion.

 

Come to think of it, why _did_ Fugaku let him leave? Not days before he had asked Naruto to offer himself up to save his best friend’s skin, and he did it through his other son that loved Naruto like a brother, too. Such a callous and cruel move, yet he changed his tune almost immediately.

 

Why didn't he make Naruto do it? Was his devotion to Minato still so strong?

 

Or, could it be that he felt the same as both Naruto and Itachi back then? That maybe Sasuke needed to be taken away—at least for a little while—so he could get better and not worse?

 

Well, we know how well that turned out, don't we?

 

But yes, He's too distracted trying to find answers for questions he hadn't even thought about before. That's probably why he almost misses the knife that tries to embed itself in his kidneys from behind, turning just quick enough for it to only graze his jacket without tearing it.

 

Ha. Still got it.

 

But also, what the hell?

 

Naruto hears a muffled curse and the shuffling of feet, identifying three sets immediately, from the sound of it. He throws his elbow back stiffly, relishing in the satisfying _crunch_ he feels upon making contact. His attacker grunts, stumbling back as he grabs his nose.

 

Naruto whirls around, ready to fight the other two off but they don't try to attack him right away. His heart sinks upon seeing them, feeling utterly betrayed and upset when he realizes that it's: “Konohamaru?” and his merry band of shits who's tried to hurt him.

 

Konohamaru looks up at him, eyes bright and angry, spitting out a bit of blood that's gotten in his mouth.

 

That's fucked up, Naruto thinks, arms going limp as he abandons the thought to fight for his life. Konohamaru used to be utterly devoted to him—an unwanted tagalong when they were teens but that was to be expected. He was only nine when Naruto departed, just a cute kid that worshiped the ground they walked on.

 

So he can't help but exclaim, quite angrily: “Did you really just try to fucking stab me?” Because this has to be an alternate universe or something.

 

Konohamaru scoffs, glaring daggers at him. He's so much taller now, almost the same height as Naruto even though he's only 15. It's a stark reminder of how much he's missed when the neighborhood brat comes up to his shoulders, now.

 

“You're an enemy of the Uchiha, aren't you?” Konohamaru grunts. “So why wouldn't I?”

 

Oh, is he, now?

 

Word sure does travel fast in these parts.

 

Naruto would almost find this funny If he wasn’t so utterly and deeply offended. He's been branded a traitor without anyone knowing what's really going on and then they sent a goddamn kid to take care of him.

 

They couldn’t even spare anyone a little higher ranking?!?

 

A kid that—not too long ago—was always two steps behind him, looking up at his back with reverence. A kid who coveted his kanji jackets and swore he'd be just like Naruto one day, grinning wide with that incomplete smile.

 

This would be a test for Konohamaru, to see if he really do it. To see if he could put his feelings to the side and carry out the mission despite his personal attachment.

 

To see if he was truly ready to be a soldier.

 

To be Uchiha.

 

A good, fitting test, but Naruto's not planning to be the guinea pig.

 

So, all it does is _piss him right the fuck off._

 

Konohamaru sees when his face changes, taking a wary step back. Udon and Moegi share worried glances, still making no moves of their own. That doesn't surprise Naruto; they've always hung around Konohamaru but never really had the same ambitions that he did. He doubts that Udon could hold a knife steady enough to try to stab someone.

 

He could be wrong though, since apparently plenty has changed already.

 

“Well, aren't you going to try again?” Naruto asks, eyebrow raised. He sounds foreign to himself, voice dipping lowly and menacingly. “You know they aren't kind to those who fail.”

 

Konohamaru looks conflicted, unsure. His eyes dart around and he looks to his friends for support. There's none to be found there, since they look just as confused. He turns back to face Naruto and asks:

 

“You want me to?” He sounds so young and confused that Naruto can't help but roll his eyes, sighing heavily. His anger dissipates slightly, but there's still a low simmering burn that he can't ignore and can't wait to address. But first—

 

He doesn't hold back when he unleashes a mean right hook upon Konohamaru's unguarded face. He goes down with a thud, blood pouring from between his fingers as he holds his nose once again. Naruto kicks him in his middle so he's flat on the ground, pressing his foot on the boy's chest so he can't move.

 

“Stay down.” He commands, ignoring Konohamaru's wide-eyed, fearful look. Naruto looks to Udon and Moegi who are frozen still, barking out a stern: “You two, go home. If I see you again today you're not going to like what happens.”

 

Udon sends a panicked look to Konohamaru, but makes no move to help him. Hmmph. Some friend he is. Moeji nods frantically, already backing away and saying: “Okay.” And then, a little quieter: “Sorry.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Naruto grunts, waving them off. He waits for them to disappear before looking to Konohamaru again who's staring up at him like he's lost it.

 

“What are you going to do with me?” He asks, sounding just as young as he looks, voice small and quiet like he's truly afraid.

 

But Naruto has no plans to hurt him. Not more than he already has, anyway. No, he has a better idea.

 

“Who told you to do this?” Naruto questions. Because he needs to know who in their right mind would send a child to do something like this unsupervised.

 

“No one.” Konohamaru replies quickly. A little too quickly, making it sound like a lie.

 

Naruto grinds his foot into the boy's chest, making him grimace. But Konohamaru doesn't budge, lips purses and tight. He's not going to give anything away but that's fine. Naruto still has use for him.

 

Konohamaru flinches when Naruto smiles down at him—it probably comes off as intimidating and a bit unhinged, but whatever—and Naruto can't help but chuckle at his reaction.

 

“You don't have to tell me, I'll find out soon enough.”

 

“Why's that?” Konohamaru asks, narrowing his eyes.

 

Naruto smiles wider, even though he's sure it doesn't reach his eyes. “You're going to take me to Sasuke and then I'm going to ask myself.” He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

 

This will save him plenty of time, since the boy will no doubt have a better idea of where the group is than he does as the moment.

 

“And if I don't?” Konohamaru challenges, staring daggers at him.

 

Naruto calmly pulls his jacket to the side, revealing his mother's gun in its holster. The teen's eyes widen at that— breath quickening ever so— before he nods and looks away from it.

 

An underhanded tactic. Naruto hates having to threaten him but he knows that Konohamaru is nearly as stubborn as he is. He'd never use a gun on him—

 

Never, never, never—

 

But Konohamaru doesn't know him anymore, just like Naruto barely recognizes the kid in front of him now. A shame, really, but Naruto doesn't have time to dwell on it.

 

“You'd really shoot me?” Konohamaru mumbles mournfully after Naruto helps him up.

 

“This coming from the one who just tried to rearrange my guts a few minutes ago.” Naruto retorts wryly. The nerve of this kid.

 

The boy has no reply for that, since it's true. Instead he says: “I'm not a kid.” while trying and failing to get out of Naruto's vice grip as he frog marches him towards where they need to go.

 

Naruto snorts, shaking his head and sighing heavily.

 

That's what they all think, growing up around here. But Naruto can say with confidence that he _is_ a child, since his hands shook when he gripped the knife, his breath was too harsh when he first tried to strike and that gave him away, his eye too telling of the deep horror he felt upon realizing what he was about to do, if he hadn't missed.

 

But he won't say that. Konohamaru wouldn't understand. All Naruto does is sigh again and curse this rotten town for the millionth time, wondering how much worse the day is going to get from here.

 

* * *

 

There's a tiny restaurant nestled into the corner of 5th and Plum. It’s a little far Uptown—close to Shukaku territory—but still firmly Uchiha. Konohamaru tells him on the train ride over that that's where the key players are most likely to be.

 

“They're planning for something,” Konohamaru explains quietly, head ducked like he's ashamed. Of course he is—the poor kid almost killed his former hero and now he's not sure how to cope. “They won't tell us what. I think it's gonna be big.”

 

Naruto doesn't like the sound of that. He's also not sure If he's ready for this.

 

Too late to worry about it now, since they arrive at the stop that'll take them to the restaurant in no time flat. Naruto takes a deep breath, grabbing Konohamaru firmly by the wrist  so he can't make a quick escape. He gets a death glare for that, making him smirk.

 

Naruto's amusement flees him quickly once he's pushing open the door to the restaurant. It's nearly empty for the time of day; usually places like this would be bustling with the lunch rush, but there's barely a soul in sight. It must be because of the meeting that Konohamaru spoke of. The group probably paid the owners beforehand to have some privacy.

 

“We're closed.” A familiar face says without looking up from the host counter.  Kotetsu's his name, another one of the Uchiha’s many hired goons. A beast of a man who’s in charge of most of the group’s protection. Next to him is Izumo. They never go anywhere without each other and some small part of Naruto is pleased to see that hasn't changed.

 

The last of their party is Kisame, leaning on the counter like he owns the place. He raises an eyebrow at Naruto and Konohamaru's entry, chuckling lowly under his breath.

 

“What do we have here?” He asks playfully, eyes focusing on Naruto's hand that surrounds Konohamaru's wrist. “You two kids on a date?”

 

“Gross. He's fifteen.” Naruto replies, sneering in disgust. “But I'm actually here to talk. Are they back there?”

 

He doesn't feel the need to specify. Either the people he's looking for are here, or they're not. But given that Kisame's here means that Itachi is, too, so he's not too worried.

 

Well, he is, but he's choosing not to focus on that right now.

 

“They are.” Izumo confirms, looking him up and down appraisingly.  “What business do you have to speak about?”

 

“None of yours.” Naruto quips, eyebrows raising. He's never had to answer to any of these assholes and he's not going to start now.

 

Kotetsu and Kisame chuckle while Izumo glares. Naruto roll his eyes, getting impatient, asking: “Are you going to let me go, or not?”

 

Kisame raises his hands in mock surrender, shaking his head. “In a moment. Do you have any weapons on you?”

 

There's no point in lying, is there?

 

“My mother lent me her gun,” Naruto replies, shrugging with forced nonchalance after he places it on the counter. “Here, take it.” It feels wrong to give it up so easily but it feels even worse to carry it.

 

Especially since he used to feel safe on this side of town, once upon a time.

 

Kisame chuckles again, looking amused. “Anything else?”

 

Naruto doesn't get why he won't just pat him down like he usually would someone else. Maybe he's testing Naruto to see what he's planning to do. Nothing crazy, since he'd be taken out before he could even get the gun off of his hip to take a shot.

 

“A knife. Less than three inches.”

 

Kisame considers for a moment before shrugging lazily. “Keep it. You know better, don't you?”

 

Naruto nods stiffly, biting down something hateful. “I do.”

 

Kotetsu juts his thumb back over his shoulder, gesturing to a large door near the back of the restaurant. “They're in the party room back there.”

 

Fitting, since it might just get a little wild in here, very soon.

 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Naruto says, tugging on Konohamaru's arm to get him to follow. The boy grunts angrily, but comes along anyway without a fuss.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Naruto hears Izumo question as he walks away.

 

Funny, Naruto's asking himself the same thing.

 

“It'll be fine.” Kisame says, sounding entirely too gleeful and self-satisfied. “Besides, this is gonna be _so_ good.”

 

Well he can't let him down now, can he?

 

Time to give them a show.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll finally get a reunion next chapter! Took me long enough, right?


	6. Six.

 

* * *

 

**Six.**

 

“I have met the enemy and he is us.”

 

—Spencer Block,

_Way of the Buffalo._

* * *

 

 

**A.**

 

Oh, the looks on their faces are _priceless._

 

They're sitting in a large booth; Itachi centered, looking like the king that he virtually is. Sasuke's sitting on his right—next to him, there's a small gap between him and Shikamaru, to signify the absence of his own right hand man. Naruto doesn't know how to feel about that. Neji sits on Itachi's left—the hand of the king, an interesting position. It's Kiba and Choji who round out the table, both on either ends.

 

They stop short at Naruto's dramatic entry—Choji's meatball completely misses his mouth and falls back to his plate, Kiba chokes on his drink as his eyes widen. Itachi blinks, Neji stares, and Sasuke looks like maybe someone just punched him in the face, the stages of grief passing through his eyes in a split second.

 

We're off to a good start.

 

Naruto grabs a chair from an unattended table nearby, all but throwing Konohamaru into it. The others look to the boy, not initially realizing that Naruto's not alone.

 

“If you're going to send someone to kill me,” Naruto says, voice little more than a growl. “Next time, make sure they have to balls to finish the job.”

 

He's not at all expecting the various looks of confusion that follow that statement.

 

“Kill you?” Shikamaru echoes, voice sharp and rough like he's truly upset.

 

“Who?” Kiba asks through clenched teeth. He actually starts to look around for some unseen threat.

 

“Since when are you back?” Choji questions, probably saying what they all were thinking.

 

Sasuke doesn't speak, brow furrowing in displeasure. He seems to be struck completely dumb by Naruto's sudden appearance, too shocked to form words at the moment. It's reminiscent of his brief reunion with Neji—the wide eyes, the hurt look, the twisted mouth—It makes Naruto feel bad, too aware of how much his absence affected them.

 

“So none of you knew about this little shit trying to kill me today?” Naruto asks with a rude gesture towards Konohamaru.

 

Shikamaru and the others might not have, but Neji, Itachi, or Sasuke have yet to deny it.

 

“I'd _never—”_ Neji begins, deeply troubled and equally offended at the implication. Naruto instantly believes him; the look on his face when they first reunited wasn't that of someone who'd want him dead and the look he sports now reads the same.

 

“If I had any interest in such a thing,” Itachi says carefully, looking at him like maybe he's lost it. “I wouldn't dare send a child.”

 

He's never been one to lie. It's also highly probable that if Itachi would have dispatched a hitman that matched his impossibly high standards, Naruto would have never seen him coming.

 

So, that leaves—

 

“I had to do something!” Konohamaru exclaims, voice cracked and passionate as he appeals to Sasuke. “He abandoned the group and then gets to walk around here without colors, disrespecting your name! I couldn't let him—”

 

“Don't speak on things you know _nothing_ of.” Sasuke snaps, hands fisting tightly on the tabletop. Naruto feels himself stand up straighter, wary and guarded in case Sasuke decides to launch himself over the table so he can get his hands on the boy.

 

Hey, it's happened before.

 

Sasuke looks to him, eyes so open and sincere that it makes it hard for Naruto to meet them. “I gave no order to attack you,” He says, voice clipped and stern. He sends Konohamaru a look of pure loathing that sends a shiver up Naruto's spine with its intensity. “I didn’t even know you were back in town. He was acting on his own.”

 

Sasuke didn't know he was back?

 

Sounds fake, but okay.

 

Or maybe not, since Itachi looks guilty for a split second and then it’s gone. Neji mirrors the same before schooling his expression back to neutral.

 

Interesting.

 

Konohamaru looks down at the floor, shaking slightly since he knows he’s in for it, now. Naruto can’t help but take pity on him, knowing exactly what it feels like to be fifteen and desperate to prove himself. The way the others are looking at the boy makes Naruto fear for his well being and whatever punishment they’ll cook up to rectify this, that’s why he finds himself saying:

 

“Fine. If he wasn’t under order, let him go. I think he learned his lesson.”

 

Konohamaru blinks up at him in surprise, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. From shame, relief, or some strange mixture of the two, Naruto can’t be sure.

 

“Let him go?” Sasuke echoes lowly, voice devoid of emotion. Naruto looks to Sasuke in challenge, subtly squaring his shoulders. He doesn’t want to fight over this, but he will. No matter what Konohamaru tried to do to him he wasn’t able to carry it out, therefore Naruto isn’t too keen on the kid getting beaten within an inch of his life, or worse, like Sasuke’s no doubt planning to do. A slap on the wrist should suffice, especially since no one explained to Konohamaru what was going on. It’s pointless now, since Naruto isn’t planning to stick around much longer to “disrespect” Sasuke and the group further.

 

(He’s been out the game too long. He’s gotten soft.)

 

Or, maybe he always was.

 

He wonders how many of them are thinking the same. Sasuke definitely is, based on the complicated expression he sports. Neji’s face is unreadable as he looks between the two of them, Itachi’s brows are low in disapproval but he won’t speak up unless directly asked, and Kiba, Shikamaru, and Choji’s faces are carefully blank as they watch the proceedings.

 

Naruto waits on bated breath, fingers curling on Konohamaru’s shoulder in half support and half apprehension. He can feel a heart beating wildly—wholly unsure who it belongs to. There’s a high possibility that it’s both of theirs: Konohamaru’s pulsing under his hand and Naruto’s flinging itself against his ribcage as it tries to escape.

 

Finally, Sasuke sighs, looking back to Konohamaru with dark promise in his eyes before he speaks. “You’re lucky that he’s so forgiving,” He says carefully, heavily implying that if it were up to Sasuke, this would end _very_ differently. “Run along, now. The adults are talking.”

 

Konohamaru doesn’t need to be told twice. He sniffles, bowing to Naruto once to show that he’s grateful, before he turns on his heels and flees as quickly as he can, the door slamming against the wall from how fast he throws it open. Naruto watches him go, tempted to go with him, but his feet are rooted to the spot.

 

…

...

 

Fuck.

 

What’s he supposed to say now?

 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Naruto starts with, looking at Sasuke’s nose instead of his eyes. Suddenly, his anger and bravado have dried up, running away as fast as Konohamaru did.

 

No, no, don’t panic.

 

Don’t you fucking panic, Naruto.

 

Everything is _fine._

 

“It’s nothing.” Sasuke replies with a loose wave of his hand, brow furrowing as he notices Naruto’s lack of eye contact.

 

No one speaks, an awkward stretch of silence growing like the fat elephant in the room. Naruto’s ears start to hyper-focus on the clock on the wall, the steady _tick, tick_ making his hands sweat and his breath begins to subtly quicken. He can’t bring himself look at anyone, too choked up on words unsaid, too aware of the feelings he’s swallowed for so long.

 

Shit.

 

He’s panicking.

 

“I’ll see myself out.” Naruto blurts out, dangerously close to exploding. He can’t move fast enough before half the table is rising from the booth, protest on their lips, hands outstretched to pull him back.

 

“Wait a minute—” Kiba says, sounding distressed.

 

“Hold on—” Choji begins hurriedly.

 

“Don’t—” Shikamaru grunts at the same time.

 

In the end, It’s Itachi that stops him in his tracks. The older man sighs heavily, hands clasped in front of him on the table, eyes growing sharp and stern.

 

“Everyone sit down.” Itachi says firmly, leaving no room for argument. The others return to their seats immediately.  “That includes you, Naruto. We need to talk.”

 

Naruto’s a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. At least, not all the time. He’d be a fool not to fear Itachi, and openly disobeying him takes some gigantic balls that Naruto isn’t ashamed to say that he just doesn't have at the moment.

 

So, he dutifully sits, settling into Konohamaru's abandoned chair that feels like the hot seat. He’s too aware of all the eyes on him, too aware of the damn near pleading looks that poke at his heart. He’s not sure what he’s feeling: Trapped? Angry? Sad? Wistful?

Maybe all of the above.

 

“I take it you received my note.” Itachi says, raising his eyebrows as Naruto narrows his eyes.

 

Ah, so it was him.

 

But why?

 

“Note? What note?” Sasuke asks. Demands is more like. He looks between Itachi and Naruto, thoroughly confused and put-out.

 

He never did like being out of the loop.

 

Neji looks at Itachi from the corner of his eyes, highly suspicious, but he doesn’t say a word. Naruto blinks, surprised that neither one of them knew about the note. So, Itachi acted alone in that.

 

Hmm.

 

That’s what it means to be king, Naruto guesses. Still, it seems strange for those two to be in the dark—he can’t help but think that something’s off with the group dynamic, something he can’t quite put his finger on.

 

Maybe Naruto’s departure did more than just hurt some feelings.

 

Maybe.

 

Things to think about later, when he’s not about to vibrate out of his skin.

 

“I did.” Naruto confirms. “A bit overkill, don’t you think?”

 

Itachi chuckles, sounding very amused. “Maybe, but it got you here, didn’t it?”

 

Semantics. Technically, Konohamaru attacking him is got him here. But before that, he _was_ already on the search for them to smooth things over. It just expedited the process.

 

Son of a bitch.

 

Itachi played him like a goddamn fiddle.

 

Well, two can play that game.

 

“You could have just asked, couldn’t you?” He sneers, rolling his eyes. “Since you knew full well where I was staying, seeing as how you dropped me off at home and everything.”

 

Itachi shrugs, mouth twisting as he bites down a rueful smile. Naruto feels bitter and betrayed that the other man went back on his declaration to leave him be. He should have known that such a thing would be impossible at this point, since every Uchiha he’s ever come across doesn’t know the meaning of letting things go.

 

“I wasn’t sure where we stood.” Itachi says evenly, eyes growing hard and dangerous. Naruto presses against the back of his seat, feeling slightly threatened. “Rumor has it that you’ve been making friends with the Yakushi. I thought I’d give you the chance to come explain yourself in person.”

 

Fuck.

 

Itachi's out for blood, to say it so openly.

 

This isn’t good.

 

Naruto swallows thickly, goosebumps erupting on his skin when too many pairs of eyes swing to him, brimming with disbelief and accusation.

 

“What?” Neji exclaims, shaking his head in pure denial. “Naruto wouldn’t—”

 

“Bullshit.” Sasuke grunts angrily, glaring daggers at his brother. “There’s no fucking way—”

 

How nice. They still have such faith in him, after everything. He can’t help the way his heart _thumps_ at that, but he shakes off the onslaught of warm tingles because this is **_not_** the time.

 

Itachi raises a hand in warning, not taking his eyes off Naruto. “Quiet.” He barks, making Sasuke and Neji bitterly fall silent. Naruto would find amusement in how much power Itachi has over the two of them if he wasn’t _so fucking pissed off._  “Go on, Naruto. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

You know what?

 

Fuck this.

 

Naruto doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to stand for this. He refuses to snivel and stumble over his words as he tries to explain, like Itachi expects him to. He’s not going to take this shit lying down anymore.

 

There's no law that says he has to be nice, so there's that.

 

“And why would I need to?” Naruto asks, tilting his head curiously. He sees the shadow of surprise that crosses Itachi’s face but he’s not even close to being done. “Who I spend my time with is none of your business, right? You’re father already gave me permission to leave the group so nothing I do goes against your code. Not to mention that, last time I checked: _You_ aren’t the head yet and _you_ were never going to be.”

 

He looks to both Itachi and Sasuke as he says it, daring either one of them to argue. A bit uncalled for, his dig at Sasuke’s status, but such is the nature of collateral damage. Naruto can’t help but feel slightly victorious when they both break eye contact with him, looking equally shocked and offended. What? Was he supposed to lose his bite just because he’s not living underfoot anymore? Hell no. They’ve got him fucked up.  

 

“Naruto—” Neji says disapprovingly, looking somewhat proud but also disappointed in him for the barb. Nope, Naruto’s not letting him off easy, either, still upset that Neji couldn’t stand the sight of him when they ran into each other before.  

 

“Oh? You’re going to stick around and talk to me this time _,_ Speedy? Give me enough warning if you’re going to take off like that again, I wouldn’t want to choke on your dust.” He says sarcastically, ignoring the way the others are looking at him.

 

“How about we all calm down?” Shikamaru says loudly, cutting off the next savage remark that Naruto was going to say. Fortunate too, since Sasuke looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and Itachi looks to be about two seconds from choking Naruto out. Well, if they want to fucking _go—_

 

“You knew, too?” Sasuke asks Neji, interrupting Naruto's next thought, voice tinted with hints of betrayal. Neji doesn't flinch against the look in his eyes, voice even and casual when he confirms what Sasuke already knows.

 

“I did.”

 

“And yet you said nothing.” Sasuke grunts, teeth ready to crack from the pressure he's putting on them. Naruto feels the slightest twinge of pity for him. It is a tad unfair that Naruto's sudden reappearance was withheld from him, by the two people he trusts the most, no less.

 

Regardless of what's happened between them, all that time they spent together as children counts for something. Part of Naruto feels like he owes his former friends an explanation, or a least a proper goodbye.

 

(Former?)

 

(What about this feels _former_ to you?)

 

Neji pauses, choosing his words meticulously as not to set off a bomb. Pointless, since what he says next is cutting regardless of how he spins it.

 

“You would have tried to see him, Sasuke.” Neji says, voice clipped and clinical like he's cauterizing a wound. “I couldn't let you do that.”

 

“You have no fucking right to—” Sasuke begins, hands rattling the table as he slams them down against it.

 

They're still fighting over him.

 

Some things never change.

 

“Shut up.” Itachi grunts, voice dipping lower. He’s close to snapping and ending them all. “Discuss it later. I still want an answer to my question.”

 

Jesus, he's still on about this? Naruto really wants to tell the older man to fuck off and mind his business.

 

Except he'll never do that, because Naruto's danger sensors are blaring red and he knows that playtime is over. Itachi's eyes are black as he looks at him, body stiff and still like a statue. He's at the end of his patience, it seems. If Naruto answers wrong, there will be much more at stake than some hurt feelings.

 

He's not looking to have any more attempts on his life today, thank you very much.

 

“I'm not working with Kabuto,” Naruto concedes, shaking his head. He feels hot shame for his weakness burn in his chest but ignores it. “I'd never work with Kabuto, or Orochimaru for that matter. You know me better than that.”

 

He'll pretend like he doesn't notice the subtle exhales of relief from the others, choosing to focus on Itachi's untrusting eyes.

 

“Then why meet with him?” Itachi questions, face unreadable. He doesn't believe it, not yet. Naruto couldn't possibly tell him about Suigetsu. Not that. Never that. He can't reveal that the incident that changed everything, that made them all irrevocably broken in some capacity, that fractured bonds they swore never would—

 

Was all his fault.

 

He doesn't want to do this—doesn’t want to share what he knows since he's still uncertain of the Uchiha's involvement with the disappearances, but he doesn't see another way out, especially when everyone is looking at him so expectantly. They're trying to be cool about it—sporting neutral expressions, not giving anything away—but Naruto can see the hope on their eyes, their need to believe him.

 

He's see how tight they're holding on to the idea that they still _know_ him. That he's still the same after all this time, that they didn't miss anything in his absence. In their eyes, there's been no great change to make him not like the Naruto they knew—loyal, trustworthy, dedicated and honest. The Naruto they knew would never collude with the enemy. So, this Naruto that stands before them now is the same—

 

Right?

 

“I've been looking into the disappearances around here. A friend of mine was taken.” Naruto says, kicking himself for admitting it. He doesn't understand himself, but he couldn't disappoint their faith in him.

 

For who’s sake, he's not sure.

 

“Kabuto said he had information and I was desperate, so I met with him. It was stupid, I know, but I needed a solid lead and I thought he might have one.” Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either. It'll have to do.

 

“He’d never help you for free.” Itachi tuts, shaking his head in disappointment. Naruto feels like he's being scolded like a naive child; he's surprised Itachi doesn't wag his finger back and forth to chide him further. “What did he ask for in return?”

 

Tch. Nosy.

 

“My allegiance.” He sees the others about to voice their opinions on that but he holds his hand up to stop them. “Of course I told him no thanks. I have no interest in switching teams in exchange for a little help.”

 

Especially since he's gone out of his way to bench himself on this one.  

 

“Alright.” Itachi replies slowly, nodding as he absorbs Naruto's words. It's always been hard to tell what Itachi's really thinking and right now is no different. It seems like maybe he believes it because his stone face begins to soften. A good sign, since Naruto was definitely worried about his safety for a minute there.

 

“I take it this was the “business” you spoke of before?” Itachi asks, pursing his lips in slight irritation. He’s no doubt thinking about the time that could have been saved if Naruto would have told him this from the start. All Naruto can do is stupidly nod, hating that he's admitting to all of this but he can do nothing to stop it.

 

“You should have come to us.” Neji says, brows low in displeasure.

 

Why the fuck would he do that? Have they listened to _nothing_ he's said?!?!

 

“We've been looking into the disappearances as well.” Shikamaru pipes up, garnering Naruto's attention. Then, quieter he adds: “That's actually what this meeting was about.” Sounding annoyed because it's been thoroughly interrupted. But Naruto barely hears that last part, too caught up on the fact that: Really? They have? But aren't they the ones that—

 

Sasuke notices Naruto's look of confusion, raising an eyebrow. “You seem surprised.” He says blandly. “Did you think we wouldn't know what was going on inside our own territory?”

 

Naruto sputters, trying to think of a convincing lie to respond with. He's failing, not sure how to phrase what he wants to say.

 

“No, he probably thought we were behind it.” Choji chimes in, shrugging. “Everyone else does already. You did, didn't you?” He sounds so disappointed and Naruto feels his chest clench, black guilt climbing up his throat.

 

“Seriously?” Kiba scoffs, sucking his teeth. “C'mon Naruto, you can't really believe that we'd be doing something like that, right? For what?”

 

Yeah, that's what he's been asking himself this whole time.

 

 _—Why_?

But no one has a solid answer.

 

What else was he supposed to think? Yeah, he could have trusted that they'd never do something like this. He could have put his personal feelings aside instead of being blinded by his bias. He could have looked at this objectively and saw that plenty of tips and clues didn't add up instead of immediately jumping to conclusions—

 

He's not sure where he's going with this.

 

All he knows is that he feels bad about mentally accusing them without hearing their side and now his mouth won't move because he's ashamed of himself.

 

“Whoever's behind this is doing a good job, then.” Shikamaru drawls, shaking his head. “Of framing us. Even Naruto fell for it.”

 

“I wouldn't say that I fell for it.” Naruto protests immediately. Even though he kinda did. Tch.

 

Still, just because they say they aren't behind the kidnappings doesn't mean it's true. His traitorous heart is already fully on board with believing them—They’re all good people, deep down. He knows that. They'd never do something like this and he's always known they were innocent. But his mind isn’t so easily swayed, too bitter and jaded about things that have nothing to do with the matter at hand, but his judgment is clouded by it all the same. So what he says next is calculated, fishing for a certain reaction to ease his worried mind.

 

He sends a quiet apology to Gaara, begging forgiveness for sharing a secret he swore he wouldn't. But he has know for sure before he proceeds further.

 

“I had my doubts. It did seem strange that you'd risk all out war with the Shukaku, though. Snatching Temari didn't seem like a well thought out plan so I knew that no Uchiha could be behind that.”

 

This time, he's fully expecting the looks of surprised confusion that sweep the room, silently breathing out a sigh of relief. He can tell that they genuinely knew nothing about her going missing. Taking an heir to an opposing clan is stupid, foolish, a certified death wish. No one here would be reckless enough to carry something like that out alone. Either they all knew, or they didn't. And, from the looks on their faces, they didn't.

 

(One longer look—just a glance, quick and fleeting—and he notices the look of more than just surprise on Shikamaru's face. There's a deep horror there, a muddy mix of grief and concern—and Naruto just...knows. He knows, but he's not going to say anything because this surely isn't the time.)

 

(He has even move motivation to find her now. He's going to be an uncle.)

 

“Shit.” Kiba exclaims, eyes slightly wide. “They took her, too? What the hell is going on?”

 

“This is more serious than we thought.” Choji mumbles.

 

Tell me about it.

 

More dangerous too, since the stakes just rose considerably for them. If Temari going missing becomes common knowledge, and it's going around that the Uchiha are behind it, then—

 

It really might start a war.

 

Sasuke's face is absolutely black—brow pushed low and fingers intertwined in front of his face, hiding the angry twist of his mouth. Neji's eyes are calculating and distant; there's probably a million questions and pathways tumbling through his mind as he tries to make sense of what he's just heard.

 

It’s Itachi who speaks, sighing heavily after he takes a long sip of water.

 

“You seem to be aware of some important information.” He says, looking at Naruto coolly. Naruto stiffens, not liking the way he says it. Too casual. Too even. He’s fucking boiling on the inside: Because of what he's just learned or because the situation seems to be snowballing worse as the days roll on, Naruto can't be sure.  

 

“I think we need to get everything out in the open.” Itachi continues, looking at Naruto with hints of challenge, daring him to say otherwise. “But we've spent enough time here. We're going to go somewhere more comfortable and then you're going to tell me everything you know.”

 

He doesn't ask, doesn't gently suggest. He says it firmly and resolutely, with such a dangerous sense of finality that Naruto finds himself nodding in agreement despite the deep dread that wraps around his throat and refuses to let go.

 

Fuck.

 

This is the last thing he wants. He doesn't want to get wrapped up in this further, doesn't want to get tied up with the group because he's almost positive they aren't planning to let him walk away after this is over. Not if they can help it.

 

He can tell from Itachi's squared, stubborn shoulders. From the picture painted on Kiba's face that’s copied twice over between Choji and Shikamaru, with Sasuke's intense, unnerving stare that's committing everything about Naruto to memory, with Neji's determined jaw and imploring eyes.

 

Now that he's here, he can tell that they think of him as much a part of this as they are. They think he's on their side now, bound by a common cause.

 

(They think he's on their side _, again._ )

 

And it'll take a hell of a lot to convince them otherwise, because no matter what he says or does, it doesn't change that around here, there's no such thing as retirement.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He's screwed.

 

He’s a Grade A, whole grain, free range idiot. He should have left when he had the chance. Better yet—

 

He _really_ should have stayed in bed.

 

* * *

 

**B.**

They talk.

 

That's what they do.

 

He's not sure what he was expecting—a fake out so they could isolate and beat the shit out of him for abandoning them, long stretches of awkward silence that would fuck with his anxiety so bad that he'd be spilling state secrets just to get someone else to _say something_ , a pagan blood ritual to make him a soulless, unthinking servant—

 

It all seems so ridiculous after the fact because all Itachi wants to do is talk, just like he said.

 

All they want to do is be around him.

 

Naruto doesn't know how to feel about that.

 

The minute he's back inside the compound—the white walls decorated with blue and gold trim, ornate and spotless as ever—Naruto feels like he's...home.

 

 _Fuck_ , this was a mistake.

 

He shouldn't have come here. They could have said all that they needed to back at the restaurant. Don't they always say you have a 20% chance of survival if the kidnapper takes you to another location? Not that he's actually being held against his will, or anything. Maybe a little. Not really? He isn't sure.

 

But yes, they end up talking. Probably more than they should. Itachi only meant for him to tell him about the investigation, but once all that's said and done, once Naruto's thoroughly kicking himself for saying so much since he supposedly still doesn't trust them, it's Kiba who's asking quietly—after one of those long stretches of silence that Naruto _hates_ —while averting his eyes like he's nervous:

 

“How have you been?”

 

Not so good, buddy. It's been a hell of a ride.

 

How about you?

 

Suddenly, Naruto forgets himself. Forgets that he's supposed to keep his distance because he's not staying, forgets all the hurt and the bitterness, all the things he couldn't say in favor of more pleasant conversation pieces that come as easy as the sunrise. Suddenly, they're laughing and cracking jokes, sharing funny stories from their years apart. From one second to the next, the tense and awkward atmosphere dissipates into nothing, and then they're _whole_ again.

 

What the hell is this?

 

Certainty not what Naruto planned for.

 

He's supposed to be angry, isn't he? Wary. Betrayed. He's supposed to look at all of them and feel hate for everything they went through.  

 

He's not supposed to be comparing how their laughter sounds now to how it did before. He's not supposed to feel pride at making Itachi snort when he finds something to be hilarious, something the older man has been deeply embarrassed about since they were kids. He's not supposed to feel _anything_ at the warm look in Sasuke's eyes as he chuckles into his hand, or the genuine affection in Neji's smile when Naruto accidentally leans into him as he doubles over with laughter.

 

No, no. This isn't right. They're villains, aren't they? Horrible, terrible, no good thugs with a death wish and he doesn't care about them anymore, right? Nothing's been settled between them, nothing at all, and one good time won't change that. They have nothing in common as they are now. They can't vibrate on the same frequency anymore. They aren't friends—

 

(If that's what they ever were. Brothers, really. Family.)

 

And they probably never will be again.

 

That's his story and he's sticking to it, even though his heart just doesn't seem to believe it.

 

But yeah, they talk.

 

That's what they do.

 

**…**

 

Mikoto Uchiha floats around the house like a queen in her castle, long robe swaying behind her like the train of a fancy dress. She comes in to tell them that supper will be starting soon, eyes bugging out and nearly swallowing her tongue when she sees Naruto sitting in the den with the others, shooting the breeze like he doesn't have a care in the world.

 

He seems to have that effect on people.

 

He wasn't expecting her to be here today—he’s not sure why, since she's just as much of a fixture in this house as the hand-painted vases that cost an arm and a leg, or the ornate chandelier in the foyer that shines like the sun.

 

Naruto looks up, blinking past their rowdy revelry, realizes all at once that's it's nearly five. He’s been here for hours; so much time got away from him and he barely noticed, too lost to the sway of nostalgia that permeated around them. He swallows heavily at that, uncomfortable at the thought. It's reminiscent of his reunion with Jiraiya: the minute he looked at that old man's face, all those old feelings came rushing back with a vengeance and he couldn't tear himself away.

 

It's the same here, if not worse.

 

Worse because Mikoto was like a second mother to him—from the scarves she used to knit him to make sure he was never cold, all the dinners she cooked with a seat at the table set specifically for Naruto, since he came over so much. How she used to tuck him in when they were so very small—right after Sasuke and right before Neji—when they were huddled together for a sleepover and no one would sleep in their own bed. He can still feel her gentle kiss to his forehead and the warmth of her hand upon his cheek as she bid him goodnight.

 

So when he sees her, he's a little breathless. Thoroughly accosted by the love he feels for her that he so conveniently forgot.

 

“Oh sweetheart,” She breathes, gentle smile on her face as she rushes forward to embrace him. “It's so good to see you!”

 

Naruto grips her back just as tight, nodding into her shoulder since he suddenly can't form words.

 

“It's good to see you too, Mikoto-san.” He says, sobering, glad his voice doesn't crack with emotion.

 

“It's so good of you to stop by! I'll have to send you with one of my pies to take Kushina when you go!” She says around a smile, tactfully avoiding the reason he hasn't been back in so long. She's not going to ask why he's here and he's not going to offer. She fully aware that it's not totally innocent—from the way her smile turns a bit sad and she absently pets his scarred cheek—but she knows better than to question anything regarding Clan business.

 

She's by no means a meek woman, but she recognizes a mine field when she sees one.

 

Itachi looks at his watch, surprised at the lateness of the hour as well. Naruto sees a thoughtful frown starting to form on his face, but he smothers it just as quickly. He seems to be at a loss that so much time got away from them, too. Hmm.

 

“Thank you, mother.” Itachi says evenly, although there's an odd look in his eyes. “We'll make our way to the dining room soon.”

 

Naruto sees his chance to escape—even though the idea of Mikoto's cooking is infinitely appealing. He can't afford to spend any more time here, already annoyed that he's wasted yet another day catching up instead of looking for Haku and the girls. He hasn't been able to check his phone either, wondering if maybe Zabuza or Gaara contacted him with news.

 

He's always been so easily distracted and being back hom— _here_ isn't helping.

 

Naruto clears his throat, catching a flinch when multiple sets of eyes swing to him.

 

“I should go,” He says, inwardly cringing when he sees everyone preparing to protest. “I still have some things I have to take care of—”

 

“You don't have to—” Neji begins, looking disappointed. Naruto has to look away, wary of his eyes because they never fail to make him feel bad.

 

“You should stay.” Sasuke mutters quietly, obviously biting down what he truly wants to say.

 

Naruto feels himself wavering but shakes it off. He has to remain strong. They've already gone further down the rabbit hole than they should have. He’s already let himself get lost in emotions he don't have the right to feel anymore, so he should definitely get out while he still can.

 

It's Mikoto that convinces him in the end, patting his hair and pinching his cheek playfully, announcing:

 

“I'm making your favorite! Fried chicken! Extra crispy!” In such a cute and hopeful tone that he can't help but nod sheepishly and agree to stay for a little while, at least, since she’s always made some damn good chicken.

 

Goddamnit.

 

He's so weak and he won't survive the winter.

 

The most he's able to manage that halfway looks like fleeing the scene is excusing himself to the bathroom, power-walking down the hall as he curses his poor conviction and inability to put his foot down.

 

Naruto splashes water on his face, staring at his frowning reflection and shaking his head at his own lunacy. What on Earth is he thinking? What good can come of this? He's going to get their hopes up—as well as his own—that everything is going to work itself out. That he's back and ready to be their friend again, that all their hurt is smoothed over and life has returned to normal, with him fitting in like the always-important corner piece of the puzzle. Back to the regularly scheduled program.

 

They can never go back there again and he's sick of being wistful for something that doesn't exist anymore.

 

But today felt...good. He can't deny that. He can't pretend like he hasn't felt such a profound sense of _wrongness_ since he left. Not quite right, not all there. There's a part of him that was left behind that still lives in these walls and he can hear its heart beating, calling to him faintly through the floorboards.

 

He's so stupid. He's so fucking stupid but it's too late now because his heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest and he feels oddly close to tears because being around them still feels so—

 

Good.

 

There's a knock on the bathroom door, startling him. Naruto jumps, patting his face dry so it won't look like he was crying, smoothing down his shirt so he appears together and not on the verge of a mental breakdown to whoever's on the other side of the door.

 

Pointless, since he's always worn his moods all over his face.

 

“It's open.” He calls, taking a deep breath since he has no idea who it is.

 

It's Sasuke who pokes his head around the door, making Naruto's heart rabbit up to a fever pitch.

 

**_No._ **

 

No,no,no,no—

 

He's not ready for this.

 

Anyone else would have been fine. Well, maybe not _anyone_ —he probably would have been sufficiently panicked if Neji sought him out, too—but everyone else he could handle being alone with.

 

Fuck, fuck, and fuck again.

 

“Hey.” Sasuke mumbles lowly, looking everywhere but at Naruto. Naruto's on board with that, studying the shining tile floor like he's going to be quizzed on it later. He swallows a thick lump on his throat, grunting out an equally awkward and lame: “Hey.” Right back.

 

They both hesitate, rocking back on their heels uneasily. Naruto can see Sasuke internally berating himself; he probably came in with a plan that flew right out the window as soon as he had to carry it out in real time.

 

Naruto can relate to that. Heavily.

 

“I wanted to check on you.” Sasuke says firmly after a few more beats of tense silence. “I know you've had a long day and I wanted to make sure you're doing ok.”

 

He's not okay, but he appreciates the sentiment. He's not sure he'll ever be okay ever again.

 

“I'm alright,” Naruto mutters, lying through his teeth. He’s on the fucking edge is what he is. “Thanks for checking on me.”

 

“Of course.” Sasuke responds immediately, like it's part of his job description. It's said so confidently and assuredly—like Sasuke's surprised that Naruto feels the need to thank him for something he does so naturally that Naruto has to bite down a smile.

 

They fall quiet again, not sure what to say. Naruto watches Sasuke from the side of his eyes, wary, not surprised that Sasuke's doing the same. They're waiting for each other to move, to act. Naruto isn't used to not knowing what's going through his best friend's head, where his thoughts are in the moment, not used to this unfamiliarity and distance, that's probably why he finds himself asking:

 

“And you?” At Sasuke's slightly confused stare, he clarifies. “Are you doing okay?”

 

Funnily enough, he's fairly sure that no one's ever asked Sasuke that, even though they probably should have.

 

Sasuke blinks, not expecting the question. He shrugs, pursing his lips slightly in thought.

 

“I'm fine.” He says flatly, voice betraying nothing.

 

“That's not what I've heard.” Naruto replies quietly before he can stop himself, looking away as he curses his loose tongue.

 

Real smooth, Naruto.

 

Sasuke frowns, face closing off. Shit, he's losing him. Kushina would kill Naruto if she knew about his blatant tactlessness.  

 

“From who? The grapevine?” Sasuke asks sarcastically, raising an eyebrow, sounding only slightly accusing. “You never cared much about the whispers before.”

 

“I've always kept an ear out for ones about you.“ Naruto retorts defensively, feeling immediately mortified about how honest that was. “And I know that things have been a little...wild, lately. That's all.”

 

He's careful not to use the word crazy. Sasuke never liked being called crazy or anything close to it. No one does, really, but that's definitely a trigger word for the other man.

 

Sasuke crosses his arms, looking as if he's going to say something else but he stops himself. He huffs, gritting his teeth before he settles on a frustrated, borderline pleading:

 

“I'm _trying_.”

 

“I never said you weren't.” Naruto assures immediately, holding his hands up in surrender. He understands, wholly and truly, and he's not trying to start a fight.

 

Or is he? He's not exactly sure.

 

He's not sure what he's doing at all, right now.

 

Naruto’s still amazed how they communicate without having to say much at all. From only a few words, he can see the picture that's being painted—the quiet war that Sasuke fights within himself to stay in check. The stress this life puts on him, the shame and condemnation he feels at his lack of control, and his need for Naruto to believe that he is actively trying to stay off the edge instead of careening towards the deep end, like usual, with both hands off the wheel.

 

“Have you...talked to anyone about it, yet? Figured out what's going on with you?” Naruto asks Sasuke's shoes, not able to meet his eyes. He hates the words coming out of his mouth but can't stop himself from saying them, subtly boiling over after years of watching the pot.

 

He hazards a look up, not surprised when Sasuke looks away quickly with a hard swallow.

 

Careful now, Naruto.

 

A touchy, touchy subject. One they always tactfully avoid.

 

But they can't do that anymore, can they? Since it's the crumbling rift that stands between them—a black hole that all the pictures and knick-knacks fall into, all the furniture and the memories, eating away at the walls and the floors until there's nothing left for them to stand on.

 

“I did.” He replies quietly, following a long stretch of silence. “I was required to, in the psych-ward.” He says matter-of-factly, like those memories don't still haunt him in the dead of night.

 

It still haunts Naruto, ever since the first time he got a collect call from the county jail, ever since he hung up in a panic and changed his number so Sasuke couldn't do it again. Ever since Kushina relayed the messages once Sasuke got transferred to a mental hospital for the rest of his sentence, until Naruto begged her to stop.

 

(Sasuke got off “easy”, if that's what you want to call it. That's what everyone says. Four years—two in prison and two in a psychiatric facility. Four years, because beating someone to death in the middle of the street isn't that big of a deal if your last name is Uchiha.)

 

“Did it help any?” Naruto asks, not so subtly implying that if it did, he really needs to consider doing it again.

 

Sasuke grits his teeth again, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. He's obviously upset and uncomfortable, but Naruto can tell that he's doing his best not to fly off the handle and scare him off.

 

There's something sweet about that, as fucked up as it sounds.

 

Jesus, what is he thinking at a time like this?

 

“Maybe.” Sasuke grunts, shuffling his foot. “I have... medication too, but I don't like taking it.” At Naruto's disbelieving and disapproving look, his reluctant smile is self-deprecating. “There's a part of me that has to be this way, to keep everyone else in line. You know that.”

 

He does.

 

A calm Sasuke would give their enemies the idea that he's weakening, his iron grip on their throats softening just enough for them to take control.

 

But that doesn't make it right.

 

That doesn't make it okay for him to lose himself so thoroughly in the darkness that he has no hope of finding his way out of alone.

 

He can't go on like this. Not anymore. Naruto won't allow it. He has to do something before it's too late.

 

“Sasuke,” Naruto says, hazarding a step closer. Sasuke catches a flinch at the sound of his name, eyes guarded and body stiff. “You have to take care of yourself. Everything can't be for the sake of the Clan. You hate it when you blackout, but now you're telling me that it's fine as long as no one thinks you're weak? C'mon.”

 

“What does it matter to you?” Sasuke snaps, glaring at him. “You left. You made it clear that you didn't want anything to do with m— _us,_  so why even bother?”

 

Naruto doesn't fall for it, though, knowing that this is how Sasuke protects himself when he's feeling too vulnerable and he's not going to rise to the bait.

 

Besides, Sasuke thinks that Naruto's departure was all his fault. He thinks Naruto couldn't stand to look at him after what he did.  He knows nothing of the guilt Naruto felt over setting up Suigetsu, ultimately leading to him being killed and Sasuke jailed. He knows nothing about all his complicated feelings from being attracted to and involved with both him and Neji—how he looked up one day and hated who he was. Hated who he'd become and the scars that mocked him to proved it. He knew he wouldn't be able to look at himself again until he did something drastic.

 

He knows nothing of that, and Naruto can't bring himself to tell him, so instead he says:

 

“Just because I left doesn't mean I don't care about any of you.” Not by a long shot.That much has been proven today. “I needed a breather. I needed a minute to get my head on straight and figure out what the hell I was about to do next. I knew I couldn't stay in the clan. I just couldn't. I didn't think you'd understand that so that's why I left town completely and cut off contact.” Then, quieter, he says: “I didn't do it because I hated you.”

 

Quite the opposite.

 

For a moment in there, Naruto didn't know who he was without the Uchiha Clan. Without his friends. Without being in love with Sasuke and bending to his every wish. Who was he without obligation? Without his undying loyalty? Who was he, standing alone?

 

He had to know if he was anyone at all.

 

Sasuke looks away again, mumbling a soft: “I know.”

 

Does he?

 

But from the look on his face, he does. Sasuke probably thought about all of this during their time apart, mulling over it but unable to confirm any of it with Naruto since he wouldn't speak to him.

 

Naruto wasn't ready for it then—he’s not really ready for it now, either, but whatever—but it is easier to talk about it. He couldn't have possibly said any of this right after his face healed, or after Sasuke was released. Definitely not at any point in between. He needed time for these words to form, for him to heal.

 

After all, he's never been one to scab.

 

Sasuke finally meets his eyes again, pupils shimmering like the night sky. “I get that. I really do.” He stops to collect himself with a sigh. “I don't want you to be afraid of me.” He mumbles lowly.

 

Shit, Naruto thinks, heart thumping painfully in his chest. He bites his lip in nervousness, not sure what to say.

 

“I don't want to be afraid of you, either.” Even though he's reluctantly used to it, at this point. He won't insult Sasuke's intelligence by denying it.

 

“But for that to happen, you're going to have to start taking your medication regularly, Sasuke. Maybe talk to someone who can help you, too.”

 

Sasuke stares at him, eyes way too open and honest for comfort when he says, softly : “I only want to talk to you.”

 

That's the problem, isn't it? He's always thought that Naruto can save him. That he'll somehow have the answers to the burning questions they all have. No, it's not possible. Naruto can't keep both of their heads above water anymore, not without help. They're much too heavy, now.

 

“I know, but I meant it when I said you needed help, Sasuke.” Absently, he realizes that those words were the last thing he said to him until recently. Yikes. “Don't misunderstand me: I'm not staying. I'm not coming back to the group. But we can still...talk. You have to take care of yourself first, though. I'm not doing this if you aren't planning to change.”

 

He shouldn't be doing this at all. He's easily influenced. All it takes is cow eyes and a well placed pout and he's going back on everything he swore he wouldn't for years. Tch. Weak.

 

But he'll always be drawn to Sasuke. Always, always, always. He should have known that he'd never be able to make a clean break from all of this for as long as he lived.

 

It takes a moment, but Sasuke finally nods stiffly in agreement. “Okay. If that's what it takes, then I'll do it.” He says resolutely, and that's the end of that.

 

Naruto breathes a sigh of relief, happy that Sasuke's willing to try for him. He can't help the warmth that spreads across his entire body, threatening to over take him. He hates having to use himself as a bargaining chip, but what's done is done.

 

Sasuke steps forward hesitantly, uncharacteristically cautious. Naruto raises an eyebrow, not surprised that the other man is going in for a hug. He's always been strangely needy at times like this, quietly asking for an embrace since it feels like they fixed something between them, even if it's only the tip of the iceberg.

 

But Naruto can't pretend like he's not bursting; those shattered fragments of himself, his crooked and jagged edges slowly mending themselves back together. He can't act like there's not a part of him that deeply cares for Sasuke's well being. He just wants him to be okay. That's all, that's it. But it was too much to ask, before.

 

Maybe things will be different now. Better.

 

Maybe.

 

Probably not, but he's already fucked up and started to believe it.

 

Naruto all but falls into his arms, wholly ashamed and embarrassed at his sudden willingness to be near Sasuke again. He switches tunes faster than a radio.

 

It's sad, honestly, but he can't bring himself to care that much when Sasuke shudders when he leans on his shoulder, sighing out years worth of relief and squeezing him tight.

 

“I missed you.” Sasuke mumbles into his hair, subtlety taking in its scent.

 

Naruto pauses, throat tightening with emotion. He’s so proud that his voice is steady when he says: “I missed you, too.” Even though this feels like dangerous territory. “God, everything's been such a mess.”

 

Sasuke chuckles warmly, making goosebumps erupt on Naruto's skin. He heard him laugh earlier, but having it so up close makes him remember how much he liked the sound.

 

“Tell me about it.” Sasuke quips playfully, pulling back to tuck a piece of hair behind Naruto's ear. They stay like that for a moment—staring into each other's eyes, unmoving, Sasuke's hand on the side of his face and Naruto's arms firmly around his middle—before Naruto's hastily clearing his throat and pulling away, absently fiddling with the hemline of his shirt because he needs to do something with his suddenly sweaty hands.

 

“We should go.” Naruto squeaks, mortified that he was getting caught up in the moment and almost did something he _really_ shouldn't have. “Dinner's almost ready, right?”

 

That would have been the worst possible thing to do, if he actually threw caution to the wind and —

 

Sasuke's face is unreadable as he nods, muttering a low: “Yeah, probably.” with hooded eyes and a slight twist of his pretty mouth.

 

 _Pretty,_ Naruto? Really? That's what you're going with?!

 

Goddamnit. He knew this was a bad idea.

 

He's so damn stupid but you know that already.

 

Naruto hightails it out of there, not waiting to see if Sasuke follows him. His brain is screaming at him, calling him every name under the sun, and he worries that the fluttering butterflies tn his stomach might ruin his dinner.

 

“Damn, dude.” Kiba says in jest as he comes into the dining room. “You were gone forever! I thought maybe you climbed out a window.” He considered it, but the circular windows in the bathroom are way too small. “Did you have to take a shit?”

 

“Shut up.” Naruto grunts, sneering. All he gets in response is a chorus of laughter.

* * *

 

**C.**

 

Dinner's an interesting affair, to say the least.

 

Mikoto's talking a mile a minute, bringing him up to date with things that changed in the city while he was gone. He learns that the school they went to as kids got torn down to make a community garden—the old brick building in such disrepair that the city wasn't willing to bear the cost of fixing it.

 

Naruto's a little upset about that, a part of his childhood crumbled to dust for good. At least something good came out of it, which is something you can't say for most of the changes around here.

 

He does his best to listen to all she has to say, feeling a bit of whiplash from the past few days he's had. He only met with Gaara and Zabuza last night—He met with Kabuto some three odd days ago, only left Gaara's apartment this morning, nearly got stabbed by Konohamaru this afternoon, and somehow made flimsy amends with the group this very evening.

 

He needs a drink, unable to keep up with everything that's happened since he's been back. The first day he arrived feels so long ago. He can't reconcile that all this has transpired in under a month.

 

Speaking of drinks, someone else seems to think they need one, giving how Neji's been throwing them back since the offset of dinner. He's tense and seemingly angry but Naruto can't figure out why. That is, until Naruto catches him watching Sasuke from the sides of his eyes, absolutely fuming as Sasuke sends little smug looks his way that Naruto pretends he doesn't see.

 

Neji must have figured out that the two of them talked earlier, but if he's annoyed that they talked at all or that he wasn't the one to get Naruto alone first, he isn't sure.

 

Naruto isn't touching that. Sasuke and Neji have always had a complicated dynamic—they love each other like brothers but may also rip out each other's throats with their teeth if given the chance. There's more going on here than simple jealousy, and whatever they need to work through they'll do on their own time. Naruto can't be bothered to force them to hold hands like he did when they were six, even though he does feel guilt climbing up his throat for being a huge point of contention between them, after so long.

 

Neji looks at him, eyes saying more than his mouth ever could, and Naruto looks away quickly like his gaze burns.

 

Real smooth.

 

Shikamaru's talking about something that sounds important as Choji laughs at something Kiba whispers to him. Mikoto's following along, adding comments here and there,  but Naruto gets distracted by the sound of a door opening, heavy footfalls grabbing his attention. He looks towards the archway, breath catching when he sees Fugaku Uchiha passing by, removing his long coat and handing it to his personal bodyguard to take. Kakashi takes it willingly, folding it longways over his arm, walking behind Fugaku toe to heel as always.

 

Fugaku looks up, pausing when he sees Naruto sitting in the dining room. His blonde hair is distinctive, no doubt sticking out like a sore thumb. His eyes widen ever so, his next step cut short due to genuine surprise.

 

Naruto is aware of the stiffness in Sasuke's shoulders, Itachi's subtle shifting in his chair, Neji's hand fisted on the table, the hush that falls over Mikoto and the others as they watch the brief exchange. He's aware of all of that, and the blood pulsing in his ears.

 

But Fugaku says nothing, stiffly nodding once in greeting before he continues deeper into the house, Kakashi right behind him. The other man offers Naruto a small smile before he's gone, at least. They were never close in any meaning of the word, but Kakashi's certainly  familiar and it's good to see him still kicking. It takes twenty seconds at the most, but it's eons to Naruto. His mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty, but he smiles encouragingly to Mikoto to try and revive the conversation.

 

It doesn't go over well, but he knew better. Everyone becomes tense and awkward, talking in low tones like they're afraid to wake the beast upstairs.

 

It might be time to wrap this up.

 

The others seem to agree, as it has gotten late and the sun's firmly behind the clouds until morning. Kiba breaks away first, not hesitating to give Naruto a tight hug that lasts just a second too long, forcing Naruto to take down his phone number because, as he puts it, he's: “Not letting him off so easy this time.”

 

The look in Kiba's eyes is incredibly serious, but at least he says it with humor in his voice.

 

Choji follows suit, patting Naruto on the back and telling him not to be a stranger. Naruto returns his embrace and promises that he'll try not to be. He still has no plans to make a habit of this but he can at least play nice for the time being.

 

Shikamaru lingers longer, hands stuffed in his pockets and avoiding making direct eye contact with him. He shuffles his feet, probably because of his nerves, always more hesitant to reveal his emotions than the other two. Finally, he clicks his teeth, bumping shoulders with Naruto companionably.

 

“It's good to see you.” He mumbles, pursing his lips in slight embarrassment. “See you around.” Naruto smiles brilliantly, bumping him back.

 

“Good to see you too, man.” He says around his smile, feeling warm and happy despite himself. “Have a good night.”

 

Just like that, he's alone with Sasuke and Itachi in the foyer, an awkward silence overtaking them once the others depart. Neji hasn't moved from his chair in the dining room, not even bothering to come say goodbye. Naruto's quietly hurt about that, wondering if maybe the other man _really_ can't stand the sight of him anymore. Or, maybe he's just having a tantrum because he's upset about Naruto's private conversation with Sasuke. Oh well, he'll get over it.

 

Maybe.

 

It is Neji we're talking about.

 

“Sasuke,” Itachi says suddenly, clearing his throat. “A word?”

 

Sasuke looks like he wants to protest but thinks better of it. He nods, giving Naruto a look before he says: “Don't leave yet.”

 

“Okay.” Naruto replies, not sure why he agrees so easily. So what, he's supposed to wait for them to finish their conversation before he can go home? Apparently, since even after they disappear back into the den and close the door, he doesn't move like some sort of idiot.

 

Pathetic.

 

He taps his foot as he stands, crossing his arms because he's honestly so angry with himself. He acted like a complete idiot today, losing himself to the fray and making things more complicated than they already were. Once he has a moment to actually catch his breath and reflect on everything he's been through, he's sure he'll feel even worse about this later.

 

But not right now, since Neji chooses this exact moment to stumble out of the dining room, not really looking where he's going. He stops short when he sees Naruto still in the hall, surprised and only a little off guard.

 

“I thought you left.” He says softly, looking Naruto up and down. Naruto shifts uncomfortably, wringing his hands together nervously. Oh, so they're talking now? That's a switch.

 

“I'm about to go,” Naruto mumbles. “I'm waiting for Sasuke.”

 

Neji chuckles lowly, even though Naruto's sure that he doesn't find anything funny. “Of course you are.” He remarks flatly, raising an eyebrow.

 

What the hell is that supposed to to mean?

 

Naruto's doesn't know what kind of face he's making, but it's enough to get Neji to apologise. “Sorry,” He says, smiling sheepishly. “That was uncalled for. I'm a little drunk. I didn't mean to be rude.”

 

“It's fine,” Naruto replies, even though it's not. He notices Neji's unsteadiness and lack of focus, feeling annoyed at himself for worrying about his friend even though he's upset with him.

 

A common theme, lately.

 

He takes a moment to consider, ready to just leave and wash his hands of this whole thing, but he knows he can't do that. If he can talk things out with _Sasuke_ after everything that's happened, he can definitely do the same with Neji since he's the more rational between the two. That's why he finds himself huffing and marching forward, taking Neji's arm so he can help him upstairs.

 

“C'mon,” He mutters, ignoring the look Neji gives him. “Let's get you to bed and then I'm going home.”

 

“...Thank you.” Neji mumbles, looking to the floor. “I appreciate it.”

 

“Don't mention it.” He grunts, doing his best not to manhandle the other man in his haste.

 

Of course he remembers the way to Neji's room, occupying it so many times before. Opening the door hits him with a wave of nostalgia—the sheets neat and perm-pressed as always, the random clutter on his desk organized meticulously by color and size. The room smells of the night air with a hint of sage, the open window bringing in a brisk breeze that Naruto finds himself enjoying.

 

It's been so stuffy in here, in every meaning of the word.

 

While he's taking in the sights, Neji tries to move towards forward without him, stumbling immediately and tripping on his own feet—a surprisingly ungraceful act for the regal man. Unfortunately, Naruto goes down with him, both of them failing into heap of limbs.

 

Naruto ends up beneath him—Neji’s hair pools on his shoulder in a way that makes him sigh. It's so much longer now, reaching down past his back instead of barely brushing his shoulders.

 

He still wants to brush his fingers through it.

 

Nope, Naruto. Let's not go there.

 

Neji chuckles in embarrassment, looking down at him with undisguised warmth in his eyes. It might make Naruto uncomfortable if he wasn't so focused on how hard his heart is beating or the flush on Neji's face as the other man barely holds himself up from crushing him.

 

“Sorry,” Neji whispers. “I'm always dragging you down with me.”

 

This time, Naruto's almost positive that Neji can hear the painful _thump_ of his heart as he asks himself:

 

What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?

 

“No you aren't.” Naruto protests immediately, shaking his head. “I'm the one that should be saying that.”

 

Neji doesn't immediately respond, choosing instead to lay his head on Naruto's shoulder. Naruto can't help but hold his breath, unsure what's happening. He's way too aware of himself and their proximity, way too aware of all the things left unsaid and the feelings they've had and hid for so long.

 

He's really in the danger zone today. Caught between two ravenous beasts who see him as the evening meal. He can't fall into this snare again. Last time he was hopelessly stuck and tragedy was the only thing strong enough to cut him loose.

 

“Do you want me to move?” Neji asks into his shoulder, voice slightly muffled. “Can we stay like this?”

 

He sounds so desperate, like he wants nothing in the world more than to stay laying on Naruto's shoulder. Naruto can't deny him that, curling his arms around the other man's back in response. Neji shudders, grabbing at him tightly and not letting go. Naruto stares at the stark white ceiling and wonders how he got here for the millionth time.  

 

Questions for another day.

 

He's so tired and he just wants to sleep, but that's impossible with Neji laying on him like this. He'll let him stay a little longer though. It's nice to have him close despite the friction they've had.

 

After ages, Neji pulls away, a sad smile on his face as he gazed down at Naruto. He isn't expecting his next words at all, heart breaking and breath stuttering when Neji asks him, heartfelt and quiet:

 

“Why did it have to be him?” He asks, closing his eyes and softly shaking his head in question.

 

 _Fuck,_ Naruto thinks.

 

So it's come to this.

 

“I don't know.” Naruto answers honestly. There's nothing else to say. He truly isn't sure why he cares about Sasuke so much. Why he can't let him go. He just can't and he's almost ready to accept it. “I've asked myself the same thing countless times.”

 

Neji chuckles humorlessly, running a gentle hand down the side of Naruto's face. He can feel his love through his finger tips. “Could it have been me, if I had the courage to ask first?”

 

How stupid, Naruto thinks.

 

He doesn't understand anything.

 

“I never said it wasn't you.” Naruto breathes, swallowing thickly. “It's just...him, too.”

 

That's the only way to describe it.

 

He loves Sasuke because he's strong, physically and mentally. Because he used to make Naruto shoot milk through his nose in laughter when they were younger, when times were good. Because he used to stick up for him and take them on adventures in their backyards. Because they'd play video games until the dead of night and he looked so cute with his pout when he'd lose. Because they got in so much trouble together but always got each other out of it. Because they looked out for each other always.

 

He loves Neji because he's kind and caring. He always listened to Naruto's stories when his voice was getting lost behind everyone else's. He sat with him in quiet moments and knew how to comfort Naruto with his presence instead of words. Because he noticed subtle changes in his moods and was the first to ask what was wrong. Because he knows what it means to be alone when surrounded by people, what it means to be an heir of a dying dynasty.  Because he understands all of Naruto's moodiness and ugliness that he hid from view and accepted it all in stride.

 

So, for him—it’s Sasuke, but it's Neji, too.

 

And he can't deny that anymore.

 

Neji blinks in surprise, eyes filling with startled realization. Then, he smiles—warm and whole and loving and _shit,_ Naruto forgets about how terrible an idea this is, looking first to Neji's lips and then back to his eyes before he's surging upward and kissing him.

 

He's going straight to hell and he's going to burn like kerosene.

 

Neji responds in kind, nearly growling as he pins Naruto’s hands up by his face. The arousal that pools in his belly stabs at him like a knife, so sudden that it sends a pleasurable shiver through his entire body. There's no backing down now; not when Neji coaxes his lips open and the kiss turns filthy. Not when Naruto nips at his bottom lip because he knows it drives the other man crazy. Not when Neji release the firm hold on his wrists to gently curl their fingers together instead.

 

Neji pulls back, startling Naruto because, dammit, he was really into it. But fortunately, Neji's not going anywhere, pausing just long enough to pull at the bottom of Naruto's shirt as he straddles him, silently demanding that he take it off.

 

Naruto's fully on board with what. He makes quick work of taking off his tee —throwing it God knows where on the floor. Neji would probably be pissed at him for making a mess if he wasn't so... distracted—then he starts to drag off Neji's shirt, pausing to litter tiny kisses on his neck as the drags it upward, inch by inch.

 

It gives Naruto pause, seeing the scar from the bullet wound in Neji's shoulder. He doesn't mean to stare, but it's the first time he's seen it. He swallows thickly, pushing down his feelings of guilt as he gently brushes his fingertips over it.

 

Neji watches him with fond eyes, a sad smile on his face as he caresses Naruto's chin. “Ugly, isn't it?” He says softly. “I hate looking at it.”

 

He knows what that feels like. At least Neji gets to cover his up. Naruto avoided mirrors for months, after.

 

Naruto shakes his head firmly. He presses a soft kiss to the scar, looking deeply into Neji's eyes when he says: “Every part of you is beautiful.”

 

Because he is, inside and out. Even though Neji's always hated being called that, it's the best word to describe him.

 

That seems to snap a cord somewhere deep inside the other man. Neji grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back, kissing him like the world's ending.

 

Naruto's hands are everywhere—first, pressed against Neji's face, then grabbing at his corded arms, then he's feeling surprisingly bold and starts curling his fingers on the top of Neji's waistband so they can get down to business.

 

Neji chuckles deeply against his lips, gently pushing Naruto down so he's laid flat on the bed. Neji pins his arms again, shaking his head mockingly.

 

“Patience.” He murmurs playfully, making Naruto squirm. His next few kisses make Naruto's toes curl against the sheets.  “I plan to savor this.”

 

Naruto's dick seems to like the idea of that.

 

Except they don't get that far. Naruto would be proud that he's distracted Neji's so thoroughly that he's forgotten his surroundings if it wasn't about to lead to disaster. The only warning he gets that someone is about to interrupt is the slight creaking of a floorboard outside the door.

 

Naruto pulls away from the kiss but that doesn't deter Neji; the warm stripe he licks down Naruto's neck is doing terrible things to his focus. His brow scrunches up because he's not sure if he's hearing things, but that's proven false when suddenly, the door is coming open— _shit_ , they forgot to lock it in their excitement—and Sasuke's head is poking around it with words on his lips that die at the sight in front of him.

 

“Neji,” Sasuke begins, eyes widening as he enters. “Are you—”

 

**Fuck!**

 

All three of them freeze—Naruto’s breath stutters in his throat, nearly making him choke. Neji stares forward at Naruto's neck blankly, blinking rapidly to will down his panic. Sasuke doesn't move: his hand is gripping the doorknob for dear life and he looks—Naruto can't describe how he looks. He's never seen him make that face in his life. Sasuke looks torn wide open, floored. Distraught. _Betrayed_.

 

How could he not be? This was the worst way Sasuke could have found out about them. Naruto wanted to break the news gently one day, when they were old enough to laugh about it. Who is he kidding? He never had the plan to tell him at all.

 

Too late now.

 

He's really dropping the ball today, huh?

 

Why won't this day just _end_ already?!?!

 

Sasuke takes a deep breath. Then another, then one more. He closes his eyes and gently shuts the door. Naruto's heartbeat ratchets up at that, worried since the only escape route has been blocked off and he'd have to make it past _Sasuke himself_ to get away, now. That's probably not going to happen. Fuck.

 

Neji sends him a quiet, reassuring look, whispering: “Don't move. If he loses it, he'll have to go through me first.” In Naruto's ear before he's up and standing to his full height, facing Sasuke.

 

No, no, no, no, —no one is about to _fucking_ lose it in here, not tonight. But Naruto can't get his mouth to move before Sasuke's opening his eyes, staring Neji down with a dead, empty look.

 

Naruto's afraid.

 

He worries his lip in between his teeth, looking back and forth between Neji's back and Sasuke's shaking fists. No one moves, no one seems to breathe. They just stare at each other without saying anything at all and Naruto might just explode in the next few seconds from all this dreaded anticipation.

 

“How long?” Sasuke asks after an eternity, voice clipped and slightly wavering like he's swallowing a scream.

 

Neji's voice is even, despite his blatant defensive stance. “Does it matter?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don't think it would change how livid you are right now.”

 

Sasuke snorts, looking off to the side and nodding to himself in angry disbelief.

 

Naruto swallows down a lump in his throat, shifting on the bed in discomfort. The movement grabs Sasuke attention and they make eye contact for less than a second. Naruto can't catch his flinch, looking away from the hurt in the other man's eyes because it's too much for him.

 

“You always did want what was mine.” Sasuke spits, whipping his head back to Neji, blue-hot fire in his eyes. “My rank, my family, and now this? It'll never be enough for you, will it?”

 

Naruto gasps softly, eyes wide because he can't believe Sasuke just said that.

 

“You think everything in this world belongs to you, Sasuke,” Neji says, jumping right in, struggling to keep his voice calm. “If you had it your way, there’d be nothing left for me to have.”

 

Shit, he really started World War Three, didn’t he?

 

Naruto always knew that there was some serious resentment between the two of them, but of course it would be the subject of him that ultimately set them off.

 

Typical.

 

Sasuke chuckles humorlessly, a wild look in his eyes. Naruto’s starting to seriously worry about what he’s going to do. If he’s honest, he’s worried what Neji might do, too. He’s never been one to back down from Sasuke even when he’s off his rocker. He’ll fight tooth and nail if it means protecting himself, and it will no doubt turn bloody if he has it in his mind that he’s protecting Naruto, too.

 

“You always pretend that you’re above it all,” Sasuke grunts, stepping closer. Naruto’s blood turns to ice in his veins. “But you’re just as vindictive as the rest of us, aren’t you?”

 

Neji scoffs, also advancing. “You think I’d use _Naruto_ to get back at you? You’re so fucking arrogant, Sasuke! I’m not like you—I actually give a shit about him and don’t flaunt him around like some shiny prize!”

 

_Whoa._

 

“I don’t want to hear his name on your lips!” Sasuke shouts, getting up in Neji’s face. Neji doesn’t flinch, not even slightly. He stares down the beast and shows his teeth, pushing at Sasuke’s chest to get some distance between them, making him stumble.

 

**_Whoa._ **

 

Too far, too far, he can’t let this go on. They might actually kill each other, based on how riled up they are. Naruto springs up from the bed, placing himself in between them, hands outstretched, right as Sasuke’s about to lunge forward again. That stops them in their tracks at least; they probably forgot he was still in the room for a moment, there.

 

“That’s enough.” Naruto says firmly, careful not to touch either one of them. “Stop it!”

 

“Get out of the way, Naruto.” Sasuke grunts, staring daggers at Neji over Naruto’s head. “This has been coming for a long time.”

 

“Do you want to take this outside?” Neji asks, sweeping his hands out to show that he’s ready and willing. “Because we can.  Right here, right now.”

 

“I said fucking stop it!” Naruto shouts hoarsely, pushing them further apart with shaking hands. He’s breathing hard, the tell-tale signs of a panic attack creeping up in the corners of his mind. Neji notices this immediately, anger draining from his face, quickly replaced with great concern. He reaches out to offer comfort and probably an apology, but then Sasuke’s hissing: “Don’t touch him!” before he can.

 

Neji’s face screws up with some nasty reply, but Naruto’s quicker, whirling around on Sasuke with clenched fists. “He can touch me if he wants to!” He says. Is he yelling? He might be yelling. Shit. “He always could! That’s the fucking problem here, don’t you get it? You don’t get to tell either one of us what we can and can’t do!”

 

That’s certainly not what he meant to say, but it’s out in the open air now.

 

Oh well.

 

Sasuke rears back like he’s been slapped, lips parting slightly. It doesn’t last long—his face goes black like a storm in two seconds flat, teeth gritting audibly. .

 

“He still—” Sasuke begins. Naruto shakes his head, pressing his palms to his eyes to calm himself down. The laugh that escape him sounds more like a sob to his own ears, but whatever.

 

“I started it.” Naruto says simply. He can’t see Sasuke’s face but he knows he’s surprised. “I started it because I wanted it. Just now and before, too. We fucked in this very house whenever you weren’t home. It was my goddamn idea.”

 

...

…

 

Silence.

 

Awkward, tense, charged silence.

 

Naruto sighs, letting his hands fall back to his sides. He cracks his eyes open, looking to Sasuke who’s staring at him like he doesn’t even know who he is. Neji’s quiet, looking off into in distance with no expression on his face. He probably didn’t expect for Naruto to admit that, wholly surprised by his admission. It’s fine; Naruto didn’t expect to admit that, either.

 

Sasuke nods, running his tongue over his teeth to stop himself from saying something devastating, probably. “Why?” He asks instead.

 

“Because you didn’t own every facet of my fucking life, Sasuke! ” Naruto answers before he can stop himself. Too much, they’re going way too far right now but it won’t stop. “Because you were allowed to have fun and do whatever you wanted, so why couldn’t I? Because I care about Neji too, just as much as I care about you! Because you two fight over me constantly and I hate it, but it’s also nice to be wanted! What else do you want me to say?” He cries, throwing his hands up in frustration.

 

He’s already gone and shot himself in the foot, baring his soul like that.

 

If anything, he used Neji more than the other man could have ever used him, just to prove to himself that Sasuke didn’t own every fiber of his being. He shouldn’t have done that, since what he feels for Neji made it impossible to stop once they started —He should have pursued some random guy to vent out his frustrations, or just stood up for himself and told Sasuke what he told him now. But it’s not like he tried very hard to leave Sasuke, perfectly satisfied being his “trophy” as Neji said. It made him feel special, being Sasuke’s first choice, being Neji’s secret tryst.

 

Pathetic.

 

At least neither one of them speaks after his declaration, allowing him a moment to collect himself.

 

“I don’t know what to do.” Naruto admits softly, wary of the silence. “I don’t want to hurt either of you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

 

“Do you want to be with him?” Sasuke asks suddenly in a strange tone, throwing Naruto for a loop. “Just say it, and I’ll back off.”

 

Well, that’s a fucking lie if he’s ever heard one, but he won’t call him on it.

 

“Agreed.” Neji says slowly, eyes boring into Naruto’s soul. “Whatever choice you make, I’ll accept. I swear it.”

 

Nope. He’d rather a knock down, drag out, bloody death match than this quiet acceptance. It’s too out of character for the both of them— they’re bitter end types, for sure —but they’re doing it for him because they can see that he’s at the end of his rope. It’s both wonderful and heartbreaking, and the surge of love he feels for them nearly brings tears to his eyes.

 

“I can’t be with either one of you.”  He says mournfully, causing their faces to fall. “I’m still leaving. I’m still really fucked up inside and I haven’t fully worked out my issues. I don’t think it’s possible for me to pick one of you because either way, I’ll feel like I’m making a mistake. The only thing that feels right is to end it, completely. With both of you.”

 

Neji runs a hand through his hair, a complicated expression twisting his beautiful features. Sasuke looks to the ground, frowning at it like it’s the cause of all his problems. God, this sucks, Naruto thinks. But it feels like the mature thing to do. It was always a terrible idea to get involved with both of them because he just _knew_ it was going to blow up in his face like this. There’s no way Sasuke or Neji would be fine with it if they weren’t the one he picked, in the end. They’d never let it go. Never, never, never—and he can’t be the reason that their relationship crumbles to dust for good.

 

In his musings, he misses the pointed look Sasuke sends to Neji and the disbelieving raise of Neji’s eyebrows in response. A quiet, deep conversation taking place in a matter of seconds between the two of them. He misses when the light of understanding dawns in both of their eyes and the slight smirks that grace their faces.

 

“There’s always a third option…” Sasuke drawls, staring at Neji a little longer to make sure he’s truly on board before looking to Naruto, who stands thoroughly confused.

 

“What?” Naruto asks, swinging his head back and forth to look between them, not understanding. “What’s the third option?”

 

Neji smirks, taking Naruto’s hand gently and tugging him towards him. “Come to bed.” He says lowly, chuckling at Naruto’s expression. Naruto stares at him in disbelief because—

 

Um? Really? That’s a little too bold even for him, to proposition him right in front of Sasuke. Also, did he listen to nothing he’s said?!?

 

But then Sasuke’s going to lock the door, turning around with a wide smirk as Naruto’s eyes widen, taking his own shirt off to join Neji and Naruto’s on the floor.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

Well damn, okay.

 

He’s too dumbstruck to argue. He should tell them that this is the **worst** solution ever because none of them are exactly sane and this will open up a whole other can of worms, but Neji’s hand is warm and Sasuke’s eyes are promising—so, well….

 

Shit.

 

**…**

Promising, indeed.

 

Sasuke’s eyes are black with want as he forces Naruto to take him deeper in his mouth, petting the side of his face like he’s truly something special. Naruto chokes, gasping around him as Neji thrusts harder from behind, the tight grip he has on Naruto’s hips more than likely to leave bruises in the morning.

**…**

 

Yeah, he’s a big fan of option three.

 

**…**

 

Naruto wakes up the next morning snuggly warm. Sasuke’s next to him, face soft and innocent his sleep. His arm is curled around Naruto’s middle tightly, using him like a body pillow. Neji’s face is buried in Naruto’s neck from behind, arm also vice-like with it’s grip. They’re almost holding hands, fingers brushing because of their placement, but not quite.

 

Naruto might find that cute if he wasn’t _freaking the fuck out because oh my god, what has he done?!!_

 

No one is allowed to listen to anything he says anymore. His words mean nothing at this point, because his actions dictate that’s he’s wholly, truly, and completely stupid.

 

He silently panics, staring up at the stark white ceiling with wide eyes, gripping the sheets that cover his chest for dear life. He’s really done it now. Naruto was supposed to make a clean break; He was going to break it off with both of them and go about his merry way, skipping town once he found Haku and not once looking back. Now, he’s thrown a wrench in his own gears by _fucking the both of them_ _at_ _the same time_. Instead of ending it, he’s gone and convinced the two most stubborn fuckers he knows that they can indeed, _share_.

 

Goddammit!

 

But it’s too late to beat himself up over it. The deed is done. All he’s worried about now is how he really has to pee.

 

Sasuke grunts when he tries to move, face scrunching up cutely in his sleep. Neji’s arm tightens further, bringing more attention to how much Naruto has to go.

 

“Move.” He says gently, tapping their arms. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

 

Neji sighs but lets him go while Sasuke rolls over on his back, yawning widely.

 

Naruto hightails it to Neji’s personal bathroom, marveling over how clean it is.  Of course it is—that man is nothing if not thorough.

 

You know what else he’s _thorough_ about? Nope, let’s not go there.

 

Naruto allows himself to disassociate while he pees, thinking that he should be in the hall of fame of idiots. He deserves a medal or something, doesn’t he? The pleasant soreness that courses through his body does nothing to help his mood either. Or the hickeys that cover his chest that he inspects in the mirror. He stares at himself, covering his face in embarrassment, rocking back and forth in a effort to collect himself. He takes a deep breath, gathering the courage to go back into the bedroom, sighing at his own antics.

 

Sasuke’s sitting up, covers pooled in his lap invitingly as he stretches. Neji’s leaning against the headboard, hair gathered over one shoulder messily. He blows a strand out of his face and smiles bright when Naruto reemerges, followed by a warm grin from Sasuke.

 

Shit. Naruto wants to dive back in that bed like an olympic swimmer, hands pressed together as he makes a majestic leap.

 

“Morning.” He squeaks, all too aware of himself and his nudity.

 

“Morning.” They echo in unison, their voices still slightly tinged with sleep. Naruto can’t help but squirm at the sound of it, causing them to give each other a smug, knowing look.

 

Shit, they’re on the same side now. He’s doubly screwed.

 

(Literally)

 

“So this can never happen again.” Naruto says conversationally, throwing on his clothes with lightning speed. He’ll worry about a shower later; he’s got to get the hell out of here before he’s loses it completely. Or before they convince him to thrown his reservations away for round two.

 

“Naruto—” Neji says, giving him a dry look.

 

Sasuke rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “C’mon, Naruto. don’t act like you didn’t—”

 

Nope! Nope! They’re not having this conversation!

 

The universe decides to take pity on him in the form of his phone buzzing. They all pause to look at it on the nightstand and Naruto scrambles to grab it before either one of them can.

 

_I have news. Meet me at my place._

 

Zabuza texts, making Naruto’s eyes widen and his breath quicken.

 

“What is it?” Neji asks curiously.

 

“Who’s that?” Sasuke questions at the same time.

 

“I have to go.” Naruto says quickly, lacing up his shoes lightning fast. He holds up a hand before either one of them can protest. “We’ll talk later, alright?”

 

He immediately contradicts himself by strolling over to dole out chaste goodbye kisses, struggling against Sasuke’s firm hand as it tries to hold him in place for something deeper.

 

Sasuke chuckles, looking to him with hooded eyes. “You’re really going to leave me hanging like this?” He asks playfully, referring to his growing problem that’s hidden under the sheets. Neji raises his eyebrow too, since he’s in the same state.

 

Naruto will surely be mortified about it later, but he makes the split decision to grab Sasuke’s hand and place it on Neji. He does the same with Neji’s hand, placing it on Sasuke.

 

“Work that out amongst yourselves.” He says brightly, ignoring the shock on their faces and their startled squawks. “I gotta go.”

 

With that, he spins on his heel and exits before the cranberry blush on his face takes over his body.

 

He’s going to pay for that later. He just knows it.

 

It’s early enough that no one’s stirring just yet, so he gets down the hall and stairs quickly enough. Or not, since Itachi’s leaning by the door with his arms folded, looking like a tired father who’s caught his child sneaking out.

 

He smirks when Naruto stumbles in surprise, giving him a pointed look.

 

“I thought you didn’t leave last night.” Itachi says nonchalantly, chuckling. “I guess I was right.”

 

Nope! They aren’t having this conversation!

 

“Well, I’m leaving now.” Naruto says easily, shrugging. “See ya.”

 

“Who’s room are you coming from?” Itachi asks haughtily, raising his eyebrow.

 

He doesn’t need to say more.

 

Naruto knows what he’s implying.

 

Well, since he asked—

 

“Neji’s.” Naruto confirms, waiting for Itachi to smirk in victory. He throws him off when he adds: “But Sasuke was there all night, too.”

 

Itachi blinks, an odd noise coming from the back of his throat before he throws his head back in genuine laughter.

 

“Touche.” He replies, coming down off of his chuckles. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that. You never cease to amaze me, Naruto.”

 

“I didn't expect it, either." Naruto says honestly, shrugging. “C'est la vie. Anyway, I have to go.” Strolling past him to do just that.

 

He only gets as far as gripping the doorknob before Itachi hems him in with his arm, pressing close behind his ear to whisper: “Careful, Naruto. You know how they get when they have to share.”

 

He does.

 

One of them breaks the toy, so neither one can play with it. That's what happened to poor Mr. Snuffles the elephant when they were four, and many other playthings down the line.

 

He doesn't plan to have his head tugged off and all his stuffing fall out, so he's actually inclined to listen.

 

“Thanks for the warning.” Naruto says stiffy without turning around. He's sure Itachi's grin is positively predatory when he murmurs:

 

“Really, don't mention it.” He opens the door to let Naruto out, whose legs won't carry him away fast enough.

 

Ahh, what a mess.

 


	7. Seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooo sorry that this chapter took so long! The holiday season is always pure chaos for me :/

* * *

 

 **Seven**.

 

“Bad choices make good stories.”

 

― Oliver Markus Malloy

* * *

 

 

**A.**

 

He's not sure what's going through his head as he rushes over.

 

Naruto doesn't want to get his hopes up. Zabuza could only have minor news—something that edges them closer to the truth but still not far enough—dragged out from the screaming lungs of a tortured boy in desperation. Naruto knows all about those kinds of confessions, having watched from the sidelines often enough back in the day. Sometimes, the spilled words are reliable, other times not. Zabuza did promise that he wasn’t going to go that far though, but who’s to say? Naruto knows nothing about him in reality, besides his apparent dedication to finding Haku.

 

Who knows what the man gets up to, when the curtains are drawn?

 

His fears aren’t laid to rest when he arrives. Gaara’s posted up by the door, one leg raised up and arms folded. He nods companionably when Naruto appears, standing up straight to greet him with a twisted scowl.

 

“Details?” Naruto asks warily, knocking on Zabuza’s door firmly in the code they established yesterday.

 

“None.” Gaara confirms testily.

 

So they’re going into this blind. Great.

 

Whatever Zabuza has must be pretty good, since he would only tell them in person.

 

Naruto’s not expecting for someone other than Zabuza to open the door. That's probably why he doesn’t react as violently as Gaara does. Gaara pushes him to the side and has his piece out immediately; Funny, Naruto wasn’t aware that he had it on him _—_ wait, where the _fuck_ was he hiding it if not on his hip? But that isn’t important right now. Right now, the girl that stands in front of them has her eyes blown wide, letting out a startled: “Whoa!” as she throws her hands up in surrender, stumbling back into the hall in haste.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Gaara demands firmly, clicking off the safety while slowly advancing. The girl flinches, stepping back further into the house, eyes darting around for a means of escape.

 

Naruto’s frozen, blinking in surprise at the sudden turn of events. Obviously he’s still thrown off from the morning he’s had, which is why he can’t form the words to either calm Gaara down or question the girl himself.

 

That won’t do.  

 

All at once, he collects himself, stepping forward to take control because he knows for certain that Gaara will shoot if he doesn’t like her answer and he’s not dealing with that. Naruto calmly places his hand on the gun, not taking his eyes off the girl, pushing it down so it’s pointed more towards her stomach instead of right between her eyes. He hears Gaara grunt angrily but the other man says nothing, apparently content to let Naruto lead.

 

“She’s about to piss herself.” Naruto says to Gaara over his shoulder. “Chill, and then maybe she can answer us.”

 

The girl glares, face aging in seconds from the weight of her brows. “As if.” She huffs in irritation, looking at Naruto like he’s stupid. She juts out her chin and sets her jaw, staring deeply into Naruto’s eyes to show that she’s by no means afraid.

 

She swings her gaze back to Gaara, scowling hard. “You better stop pointing that gun at me, cowboy.” She hisses dangerously. “If you want to keep your hands, that is.”

 

Naruto’s brows shoot to his hairline, not expecting that level of vitriol. Gaara grins wildly, eyes taking on a scary edge that Naruto decidedly doesn’t like.

 

“Oh yeah?” He replies lowly, voice little more than a growl. “Try it.”

 

“Alright, alright!” Naruto exclaims, waving his hands wildly. “Both of you, calm down!”

 

He steps in between them to make his point, effectively defusing the situation since Gaara sucks his teeth but instantly retires the gun _—_ like Naruto knew he would; he didn’t think the other man would allow himself to risk shooting Naruto on accident, and he was right _—_ and the girl just crosses her arms huffily as soon as she’s not staring down the barrel.

 

“Let’s try this again,” Naruto begins slowly, as not to rile her up again. “I’m Naruto. This is Gaara. We’re looking for Zabuza, since this is his house. Is he here?”

 

He waits patiently, staring at her expectantly since she and Gaara are still having a tense staring contest over his shoulder.

 

Finally, the girl rolls her eyes, letting her arms fall to her sides with a sigh. She nods, taking a step back to let them inside.

 

“He’s taking a piss.” She says crudely, shrugging as she leads them to the living room. “He said you guys were coming so that’s why I answered the door.”

 

“That was stupid.” Gaara rebutts gruffly. “We still could have been anyone.”

 

“ _Anyone_ wouldn’t have the code, dumbass.” She fires back, gritting her teeth. “Fucking lighten up, will you?”

 

Naruto places a hand on Gaara’s forearm before he can reply, sending him a look of warning. Gaara grunts but deflates, managing to keep calm despite himself.

 

“Sorry,” Naruto says lightly. “We’re a little on edge. It’s been a stressful week.”

 

Honestly? That’s an understatement.

 

The girl rolls her eyes, lazily shrugging and mumbling a curt: “Whatever.” as she plops down on the furthest end of the couch, staring at her nails.

 

Naruto eases down into the armchair, not at all surprised that Gaara chooses to lean on the armrest instead of sitting near her, even though there’d be plenty of space between them.

 

The girl snorts—probably two seconds off from saying something else that will start a fight—but she doesn’t get a chance before Zabuza’s making his way into the living room. He raises an eyebrow at the black atmosphere that surrounds them, sharing a long-suffering look with Naruto that almost feels like camaraderie.    

 

“Have I missed something?” Zabuza asks carefully, swinging his eyes between Gaara and the girl slowly, back and forth.

 

Neither of them deign to answer;  Gaara waves his hand limply in dismissal while the girl sucks her teeth and shrugs. It’s up to Naruto to say, after biting down a heavy sigh:

 

“Nothing important.” And then, after Zabuza nods and goes to sit, he follows up with: “What’s up? What did you find out?”

 

“Who “A” is.” Zabuza replies immediately. Naruto’s brows raise in surprise and he shares a quick look with Gaara. The other man looks just as quietly pleased as Naruto feels.

 

“Really?” Naruto questions excitedly, sitting forward in his chair. “Who are they? Do you know where they are?” He’d be ready to go to them right now, if it meant finding out answers. This is great, he thinks, glad that he has someone like Zabuza on his side who works so quickly and efficiently. If the older man wasn’t caught up in the business he spoke about, Zabuza would make a great P.I.

 

“Right here.” The girl says, whistling softly to get his attention. Naruto turns startled eyes to her, not at all expecting that answer. Gaara stiffens beside him, sucking his teeth as he crosses his arms, thoroughly put out since he’ll have to play a little nicer now that they know this girl has information they need.

 

“I’m “A”, short for Anko. I was supposed to meet with your friend before but I’m sure you already know that. I heard what happened and thought I’d come here to help.”

 

No wonder Naruto had no idea what the initial stood for. Anko isn’t a part of the Uchiha Clan; come to think of it, Naruto’s never seen her around Konoha before this, and he’s usually aware of it’s permanent residents. He’s not sure if she belongs to any clan, or at least none of the big five.

 

She doesn’t look like the kind of girl who grew up in the trenches. Sure, she’s a bit rough around the edges—crass, abrasive, and most importantly, fearless—but she doesn’t have the aura of someone who lives like they do. There’s a darkness within her that can’t be ignored though, one that makes Naruto hesitant to underestimate her or brush her off just because they aren’t exactly the same. He’s not sure what it is, but it certainly gives him pause.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Anko.” Naruto says genuinely, sticking his hand out for her to shake. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with us. I really appreciate it.” At first she sneers, seemingly to cover up her surprise that he’s doing such a thing. She waits so long to meet him halfway that he almost pulls back, irked that she left him hanging like that.

 

Her grip is firm as they shake hands, but she mumbles out a borderline embarrassed: “It’s nothing.” to his knees instead of his face.

 

Naruto can’t help but feel a tiny stab of pity. It seems she isn’t so used to people being nice to her. He wasn’t even using any of his patented charm, and she’s already averting her eyes.

 

It’s fine. He’ll take what he can get.

 

“Do you know who’s been taking the girls?” Gaara asks bluntly, skipping the pleasantries to get down to business. Naruto might chastise him for being rude if he wasn’t so hungry for answers himself. That _was_ the whole point of locating her. They need to to find out what she knows. Still, there’s a reason why people say you catch more flies with honey instead of vinegar.

 

“I do,” Anko confirms, shrugging. “I can’t believe it wasn’t that obvious to you guys, though. I mean, the only one that’s crazy enough to do something like this on such a large scale is Orochimaru, yeah? And from my understanding, your clans have been at war with him for years. You gotta know what he’s capable of, at this point.”

 

_What?_

 

But Kabuto said—

 

Oh, that lying _son-of-a-bitch_.

 

Naruto’s going to kill him. To think that he believed him for even a second, actually falling for that spiel about cleaning up the streets and worrying about missing youth. Worse still, Naruto let himself be swayed to the idea that the Uchiha were possibly behind it—let himself fall for Kabuto’s cheap misdirection, let his mind cast doubt on his brothers, took the word of a known snake for the gospel instead of thinking clearly and for himself. Tch.

 

He’s going to break that fucker’s nose the first chance he gets.

 

But he has bigger things to worry about now. That can wait until later.

 

“You’re sure of this?” Naruto questions, even though he’s positive he knows her answer. He believes her, he does, but such accusations need to be backed with proof. He can’t go around wildly pointing fingers if he plans on keeping them. They have to be able to prove that Orochimaru’s behind this if they have any hope of something being done about it.

 

“Yeah.” Anko replies confidently. “I am. A hundred percent.”

 

“For what purpose?” Gaara asks her, brows low on his face. Naruto was about to ask the same, if the other man hadn’t beaten him to it.

 

Anko’s face changes suddenly. Transforms, he should say. Her face greys like the sky before a storm, features twisting with some complicated emotion that Naruto couldn’t hope to name. A shiver runs up his spine at its intensity. He’s wary of her answer, worried about what she knows that could possibly cause her to make her that face.

 

“Sex trafficking, mostly.” She says numbly, like she’s reading off a script. ”Some organ harvesting for the ones that won’t fetch a good enough price.”

 

**…**

**...**

 

 **_Fuck,_ ** Naruto thinks, not expecting that.

 

He’s not sure why; that’s what predators do, especially to young girls. Orochimaru is just the type of freak to do something like that. Something so heinous and horrible would only happen under his banner.

 

It angers him, to think that these girls have been used and abused in that way and no one was aware of it—

 

Wait.

 

Does that mean that Haku and Temari have been—?

 

Gaara rises quickly from his perch, setting into pacing back and forth on the wood floor hard enough that it creaks. He must have thought the same as Naruto right then, face twisting angrily at the implication.

 

There’s a deep horror in his poison green eyes, too—fear and disgust for what his sister may have gone through.

 

Naruto looks away from him, swallowing heavily. He doesn't like that fact that Gaara’s fists are shaking or the grim-set line of Zabuza’s mouth as he reaches the same conclusion.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Anko mutters softly, mindful of changing mood in the room. “But that probably hasn’t happened yet.”

 

“What do you mean?” Zabuza asks carefully, the only one able to find his voice. Naruto’s heart is thumping painfully in his chest as he lets himself think of too many scenarios and Gaara looks to be two seconds away from punching something.

 

“He doesn’t let anyone in the clan touch the merchandise. He needs them perfect for the clients.” Anko continues tonelessly. She sounds so far removed from the words coming out of her mouth that it worries Naruto. “He only sells them off at certain times so we should still have a little time, but not much. If the people you’re looking for are alive, he’ll still have them.”

 

“How do you know this?” Naruto asks, trying and failing not to sound distressed. That may be a loaded question, if he’s honest. He has the distinct feeling that her experience might be first hand, given the odd and detached way she’s speaking about it. He hopes it’s not true, but Naruto’s no fool. He knows just how cruel life can be, especially around here.

 

“I used to be one of Orochimaru’s favorite girls,” She confirms with a seemingly easy shrug. “And then I wasn’t. He let me go once he got bored. But I saw plenty while I was stuck there. Heard a lot, too. I know how it all works.”

 

Gaara stops pacing abruptly. He shares a look with Naruto, lips parted, eyes a little blown wide. Zabuza shifts uncomfortably in his seat but says nothing. Naruto clears his throat awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such a statement. He knows better than to apologize for circumstances he wasn’t aware of and couldn’t control—his words won’t mean anything to her, won’t help her scrub off that brand or sleep any better at night. She’s not telling them this for pity’s sake, only for credibility.

 

“Okay. I understand.” Naruto says, nodding. “Does he keep them somewhere special before he...sells them? Or are they are at his house?”

 

It will be difficult if the latter turns out to be true. Naruto isn’t lacking courage but walking into an enemy’s hold won’t be easy no matter who they are or what they know.

 

Anko shakes her head, leaning forward to grab something off the coffee table. She spreads out a map, tapping one of her long nails on a spot circled in red ink near one of the corners.

 

“He changes his safe houses every few months.” She explains, “This one in red is his most recent. When he’s ready to sell the girls, he’ll have them moved to the wharf to be sent off by boat, but we can find them here, first.”

 

“Okay.” Naruto says. “How long do we have to plan for this?” He didn’t expect to get this close to finding his friend today _—_ not by a long shot _—_ but this is better than anything he could have hoped for.

 

In his excitement, he almost misses the complicated expression that passes over Anko’s face.

 

She looks away before she speaks, mournfully informing them that: “He’s...moving them at the end of the week.”

 

 _What?_ The end of the week?!

 

That’s way too soon, Naruto thinks, blinking in surprise.

 

“That soon?” Zabuza mutters in disbelief. Gaara sucks his teeth in irritation, though it’s empty anger. His eyes are distant as he tries to figure out their next move.

 

Anko nods grimly before continuing. “I don’t think we have time to do something big.” She says seriously, voice filling with deep emotion. “We have to go as soon as we can or we’ll never find them.” Then, quieter, she adds: “It’ll probably be just the four of us.”

 

She says it hesitantly, like she knows that wasn’t the answer they were hoping for.

 

It’s not her fault; she can’t control how these things go. Besides, they’re glad she’s giving them this information at all.

 

But _shit,_ Naruto thinks, this gives them no time to plan for this operation. He’s used to swift action but this is borderline insane. They can’t just _walk_ into one of Orochimaru's safe houses like they own the place and live to tell the tale. That’s not how this works.

 

(They’ll have to figure something out, though. He’s determined to do this and he won’t let anything stop him.)

 

The fact that the deadline for this rescue mission is way sooner than they anticipated isn’t their only problem, as they come to find out.  Another look at the map tells them that the safehouse is too far south. That isn’t Orochimaru's territory anymore. That’s inside _—_

 

“Kumo Territory,” Naruto says with a heavy sigh.

 

He really can’t catch a break, can he?

 

“Kumo?” Gaara echoes lowly, wariness seeping into his tone.  “Shit.”

 

“Yeah.” Naruto replys, rubbing his temples.

 

“What’s wrong with the Kumo?” Zabuza asks, looking between them in question. He doesn’t know as much about the clan relations to understand their meaning. “Are they hostile?”

 

That’s one way to put it.

 

The Kumo, the last of the remaining families. The ruling clan of southern Konoha _—_ firmly gripping their territory just like the Yakushi have the east, the Sarutobi have the west, and the Shukaku have the north.

 

(As for who owns the “heart” of Konoha _—_ that’s firmly Uchiha.)

 

There’s a few things that Naruto knows for certain about the Kumo: First, they’re all insane. Second, they live for a good fight. Third, they certainly don’t play nice with their neighbors.  They’re one of the only clans that enjoy being openly antagonistic.

 

“They sure are.” Naruto replies blandly. “However we end up doing this, we’ll need to be extra careful.” He pauses, sighing deeply from his nose.

 

This just keeps getting messier and messier, huh? Well, he’s in too deep to back out now.

 

This is a problem though. If Naruto and company get caught poking around in enemy territory, there’s not telling what could happen.

 

He might still be considered Uchiha and the Kumo will end up retaliating  under the false impression that he's a part of a covert attack force. Or, they could end up believing him if he says he’s acting alone, but that would still lead to some horrible punishment.

 

Either way, he knows that he can’t involve the boys in this. No way. They don’t know the meaning of subtle and he’ll be damned if any of them get hurt because of him. If the axe is to fall somewhere, let it be on his head. This is his mess to clean up, so he’ll do his best not to inadvertently start another gang war in the process.

 

“I’ll make some calls.” Zabuza says after a few moments of silence, interrupting his thoughts. “I know we said we might not have time to get backup, but we should at least try. This kind of thing requires manpower.”

 

No one argues with him, but the deep frown on Zabuza’s face isn’t going anywhere. “It’s short notice, but I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“I should probably do the same.” Gaara adds, face set with determination. Naruto knows that Gaara would rather it be just the four of them like Anko does, but he’s wise enough to take Zabuza’s suggesting seriously. “Give me an hour and then we’ll work out more of the specifics.”

 

“Okay,” Naruto mutters in agreement, having nothing else to say. He’s too shell-shocked from how fast this is moving, too addled by the mess that is his life. Not to mention the fact that he has no idea who he should call, but he’ll pretend like he does.

 

At least he can rest easy a bit, knowing that the others have that covered.

 

Too bad his nerves won’t let him relax, despite knowing that Haku’s within arms reach.

 

Well, he _sort of_ is; his friend is in the clutches of one gang while being held in another rival gang’s territory. Naruto just has to go in there and get him out.

 

Easy, right?

 

It doesn’t matter, though. No matter how hard this gets it won’t stop him. Naruto only knows how to deal with complicated situations, you know? This will work itself out, somehow. The drama in his life always does.

 

That's not _entirely_ true, but that’s what Naruto chooses to tell himself.

 

So what if only a small part of him believes it?

* * *

 

**B.**

 

His phone rings after the tenth straight minute of staring into space, startling him. A welcome distraction from his straying thoughts that produce no helpful answers. He jumps at the loud vibration at his hip, sliding his phone out absently to check who’s calling, sighing when he sees that it’s Neji on the other end.

 

Naruto isn’t exactly trying to have a conversation with him right now—especially since he’s trying his hardest not to include the group in his plans—but more so because it hasn’t been long since he left the compound and he’s nowhere near ready to talk about what transpired last night.

 

Anyone else and Naruto would let the phone continue to buzz and he’d act as if he didn’t hear it. But it’s Neji on the other line, and Naruto can’t willfully ignore him no matter what’s going on. Knowing him, the other man probably has a good reason for calling and Naruto’s curiosity wins out in the end. He’ll kick himself for this later, but he scrambles to answer before the third buzz rattles around in his pocket.

 

“Hello?” Naruto greets, rolling his eyes at himself for being so eager.

 

“Hey,” Neji answers evenly. If he’s as nervous as Naruto, he’s doing a good job of hiding it.

 

“What’s up? Everything okay?”

 

Neji pauses, sighing so softly that the phone barely picks it up. Naruto feels his brows raising, looking to the screen to make sure they haven’t been disconnected. “Neji? You still there?”

 

“Sorry, I’m here.” Neji replies with an awkward chuckle. He seems hesitant and Naruto isn’t sure why. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wonder for long. Neji clears his throat and follows up with: “I don’t mean to bother you—”

 

“You aren’t.” Naruto interjects. He’s still waiting for Gaara and Zabuza to finish so they can get back to business so it’s not like he’s super busy at the moment. Anko’s watching TV, not too keen on talking to him alone. That’s fair, because what could they possibly talk about at a time like this? Various past traumas? No thanks.

 

He'll take talking to Neji over that any day.

 

“Alright.” Neji replies, sounding pleased. Just two words from Naruto and his tone lightened considerably. Damn, he’s really into him, huh? “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress and I was worried when you rushed out earlier. I wanted to make sure everything was okay, if you have time to talk?”

 

Naruto can’t help the small smile that curves on his face. Neji fretting over him never fails to send the warm tingles all over his body. The idea that the other man couldn’t wait more than two hours to check on him is, dare he say, cute? God, what is wrong with him?

 

“Thanks, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern.” He replies, shuffling his feet. He knows what Neji’s really worried about, though, that why he adds, quieter: “Don’t worry, you guys didn’t scare me off.”

 

He knows he hit the nail on the head when Neji pauses again. The other man is probably choosing his words very carefully. Or, he at least tries to, because he ends up settling on a kind of lame, adorably hopeful: “Really?” which Naruto can’t help but chuckle at.

 

“Yeah,” He breathes after a moment, resisting the urge to fiddle with his hair like some high school girl talking to her first crush. Ugh, he’s such a dork.

 

“That’s...good. I’m glad. I know you weren’t planning for this to happen and neither was I, so...”Neji mutters, trailing off.

 

“I mean, we’re definitely going to have to talk about it at some point,” Naruto continues for him awkwardly, biting his lip. If he had his way, they’d avoid the topic until the end of time, but that’s just not realistic. Especially since he’s so damn stupid and can’t do anything right. “But I’ve calmed down some and I’m not freaking out anymore, if that’s what you're worried about.”

 

It’s somewhat true. He’s freaking out for a different reason, now. He can’t worry about getting spitroasted when he knows what kind of danger Haku’s in. All his personal dealings will have to go on the backburner for the foreseeable future.

 

Neji goes to say something more, but then Naruto’s phone is ringing with another incoming call. He looks to the sky in exasperation, quietly praying for God to help him when he sees that Sasuke’s calling him now, too. What kind of freaky sixth sense shit is this? Why did they both know to call him even though he was trying not to involve them? Either someone is playing a joke on him or the ball’s too far in his court and they’re too anxious for his next move to leave him be.

 

Probably the latter, if he’s honest.

 

“Hold on, Neji,” Naruto says around a defeated sigh. He just can’t catch a break, huh? This is exactly why he doesn’t need two boyfriends. He doesn’t have time for this. “Sasuke’s calling. Is it okay if we threeway?”

 

As if he even needs to ask.

 

They already did, didn’t they?

 

Neji’s thinking the same, based on the small noise that rumbles in the back of his throat. It’d be the perfect joke, but the other man is wise enough not to make it when Naruto’s just barely come to terms with what’s transpired. “That’s fine.” He says instead, voice betraying nothing.

 

Smart boy.

 

“Hey, Sasuke,” Naruto greets, covering his face with his free hand when a wave of embarrassment hits him. He’s partially convinced that they’ll be able to sense his blush through the phone. “Neji’s on the line, too, just so you know.”

 

Sasuke pauses briefly, muttering out a quiet: “Okay,” He’s then addressing Neji when he asks: “Is that why you went downstairs?” with a light snort of amusement.

 

“Yeah.” Neji replies with a small laugh, “I guess we had the same idea.”

 

“Great minds.” Sasuke chuckles softly.

 

Naruto can’t help but blink stupidly as they talk calmly to each other. What’s this? They’re friends again? All it took was getting him into bed and then everything is fine? Well, hell, they should have done this sooner!

 

Ha.

 

Not a fucking chance.

 

Maybe they got the opportunity to talk while he was gone. That would be nice, if they began to work out some of the complicated feelings and hang-ups they have with each other. Or, maybe they both really, _really_ needed to get laid so they could just like, calm the fuck down? He’s always happy to help! It also could be that he had the right idea to tell them to “take care” of each other in his absence. Maybe they—

 

Nope, nope! Let’s not go there!

 

He’s already red enough as it is. He can’t let himself think of how _hot_ it would be to see them—

 

Focus, Naruto!

 

“Are you calling to ask how I’m doing, too?” Naruto asks, grateful that his voice comes out normally, not at all betraying his straying thoughts.

 

“Somewhat.” Sasuke replies simply. “Who called you earlier?”

 

Tch. Nosy.

 

At least Neji’s more subtle with his inquiries. He gets points for that.

 

“I was also wondering—” Neji begins slowly, fishing for a bite.

 

“My wife.” Naruto quips dryly, rolling his eyes. “She sent me to go pick up some milk and I haven’t been back since.”

 

**…**

**…**

 

He’s met with utter silence on both ends, making him sigh. “It was a joke, guys.” When neither one speaks, he sighs again. “Jeez, tough crowd.”

 

“ _Naruto_ —” Sasuke begins, voice dipping in warning. Naruto huffs, annoyed that he’s being pressured twice over to spill the beans.

 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but—” How should he put this? He doesn’t want to tell them that’s he’s going straight into enemy territory because they’ll never let him do it alone. “I may have found where they’ve taken Haku. I might be able to find him soon.”

 

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Neji asks him. “But you don’t sound very thrilled.”

 

Dammit, of course he can hear the hesitance in Naruto’s voice. Observant fucker.

 

“Something's wrong.” Sasuke concludes. “Otherwise you’d have gone straight to him.”

 

Shit. They know him too well.

 

“Getting him out might not be so easy.” He admits despite his reservations, rubbing his fingers together in nervousness. Naruto closes his eyes and accepts his fate, knowing that he’s not getting out of this conversation without telling them something substantial.  “He’s uh, um, sort of in Kumo territory?”

 

He’s met with silence again, but this time it’s much more tense and charged. Ugh, why can’t he keep his big mouth shut? Now they’ll never let it go.

 

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Naruto says hurriedly, wary of the quiet. They’re both capable of anything when they aren’t saying a word.

 

“I’ve jumped.” Neji says flatly.

 

“I’ve landed.” Sasuke adds, quite unhelpfully. “You’re not going by yourself.” He says it with such fierce finality that Naruto almost waivers, but he stops himself.  

 

“Who said I’m by myself?” Naruto replies, jutting his chin out in defiance even though Sasuke can’t see him. Shit, he shouldn’t have said that, either, because now they’re going to ask what he means by that.

 

“Who are you with?” Neji demands, voice taking on the same sharp edge that Sasuke’s has.

 

See?

 

He's done it now. They’ve placed their cards down in defense mode. They’ll no doubt end up on the warpath if they think he’s walking into danger and that’s the last thing he wants.

 

“Calm down,” He says, even though he knows it falls on deaf ears. “I’m with friends. People I can trust.”

 

Maybe? Jury’s still out on that one. He doesn’t trust anyone, not fully. Not even himself.

 

Gaara sort of checks out, as well as Zabuza, but he’s unsure of Anko’s motives or alignments. She says she wants to help but this could be a set up, now that he thinks about it. She might still be forcefully under Orochimaru’s thumb and she’s leading them into a trap.

 

He hates thinking this way, but he hasn’t made it this long without cover all of the bases.

 

“Who could you possibly trust more than us?” Sasuke scoffs, sounding offended at the implication. Naruto’s a little offended too, because he’s making it sound like Naruto doesn’t have any other friends. He does, but most of them aren’t equipped to help in the situation he finds himself in. It’s not everyday that normal people go on infiltration and retrieval missions.

 

Sasuke does make a damn fine point though. Naruto can say with certainty that the Uchiha have his back. No matter what he says they won’t leave him alone, so maybe he should go ahead and use it to his advantage? But it feels wrong. If something bad happens, It feels like he’ll be throwing a grenade and walking away from the carnage.

 

He’s here for Haku, nothing else, but he can’t knowingly lead his old friends into danger. He could potentially ruin already tense relations between the clans if they’re caught invading the Kumo’s territory without permission.

 

Should he try asking for permission? No, that won’t work, either. The current head, Darui, isn’t known for being friendly or rational, for that matter. If Naruto tells him that Orochimaru’s set up shop in his neck of the woods, it won’t end well. No, the only way to guarantee Haku’s safe passage is to do it himself.

 

Naruto’s got to get these two off the scent, at least a little. He combs his brain for a suitable compromise. He can’t let them storm the beaches with him, but they _are_ the only people he can fully rely on to get him out of a pinch.

 

“You’re right,” He says, feeling his soul shriveling having to do so. “But we’re not starting a war just so you guys can play white knight.”

 

“That’s not—” Neji begins, but Naruto isn’t finished.

 

“I know, I know. I’m only half kidding.” He continues, talking louder so they can’t cut him off. “Look, how about this? When we’re ready to go, I’ll send you the address. If I don’t give you guys an “all clear” within an hour, you can...come help, I guess. How does that sound?”

 

It better sound good because it’s the best he can offer. Hopefully it won’t take them long to secure the captives and they can be in and out with as little issues as possible. Probably not, but Naruto’s gotta keep hope alive.

 

Sasuke sucks his teeth, mulling over it. Neji’s probably doing the same, too quiet on the other end, making Naruto tap his foot. “Or, I could not tell you anything. That works too.” He says, not content to wait.

 

“No, that works for me.” Neji agrees quickly. He knows that Naruto’s losing patience and he’s not going to push for more. Naruto can’t help but be grateful for that.

 

“Sasuke?” Naruto asks, wary of the other man’s silence. “What about you?”

 

“....Fine. That’s fine.” Sasuke says finally. Naruto wonders how hard he had to bite his tongue to agree to this. He’s glad that neither of them can see the tiny, victorious smirk that buds on his face.

 

“Alright, it’s a promise. If either of you go back on your promise, I’ll never forgive you and never speak to you again. Do I make myself clear?” He’s being dramatic but it seems to be the only thing that works.

 

They both mutter their agreements and Naruto can’t help but feel a bit powerful. Holy shit, he won an argument with both Sasuke _and_ Neji? Unheard of. Unprecedented. He’s really moving up in the world. Or, they’re so eager to please him with this new dynamic they have that they’re willing to try anything. It doesn’t matter which, as long as it works.

 

“Cool, I’ll give you guys updates when I have them, okay?” Naruto says. He thinks for a moment, before ‘eloquently’ adding: “And we can talk about....other stuff later, too. Preferably after Haku’s safe, if that’s okay with you guys.”

 

He’s sure they know what he’s referring to when he says “other” stuff.

 

“Of course.” Sasuke replies immediately, even though he sounds a tad disappointed that they aren’t going to be getting matching tattoos of each other’s names anytime soon. If Neji’s also disappointed about that, he doesn’t say.

 

“You’re not going tonight, are you?” Is what he asks instead, concern coloring his tone.

 

“No, I don’t think so. That’s a little much even for me. Probably in the next day or two, though, depending.” Naruto answers, shurgging. They don’t have much more time than that. “Why?”

 

“Your mother called to make sure we hadn’t killed you.” Sasuke answers bluntly, never one to beat around the bush. “Since you didn’t go home last night. She said we have to send you back in one piece or there will be hell to pay.”

 

“So, You should probably go home soon.” Neji immediately adds. He knows full well what Kushina’s wrath is like and he  has no interesting in fanning the flames. “She’s not kidding and I’m not dealing with that.”

 

Naruto can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he comes down from his chuckles. “Still afraid of her, huh?” He questions playfully.

 

Sasuke chuckles, throwing back a light-hearted:  “Like you aren’t.” his way before they hang up.

 

Damn, he’s got him there.

 

**…**

 

He makes a quick stopover at his house while the others are still making their calls. Kushina hugs him for far too long when he enters, slapping him upside the head for not telling her he was staying out all night.

 

“You’ve done this to me twice now,” She says, only half angry. “If you’re staying in my house you’re going to tell me where you are, understand?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He replies automatically, not trying to worsen her wrath. “Sorry, I was with the boys.”

 

His mother blinks, looking at him oddly. “The boys?” She repeats slowly, tilting her head to the side. “I thought they were threatening you?”

 

“That was mostly just Itachi. The rest of them didn’t know about the note.” He informs her. She nods, subtlety patting him down to make sure he’s unharmed. “But yeah, uh, we talked so all of us are pretty good now, I think? For the most part.”

 

He went a little further than _talking_ with some of them.

 

But he’d rather die than tell her that.

 

“And Sasuke?” She asks, tone annoyingly hopeful. “Did you talk to him, too? How did he react?”

 

He shouldn’t be surprised. Kushina loves Sasuke like a son, just like Mikoto loves Naruto like one of her own. Of course she’d want them to work things out between them. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that even though they’ve talked, he has no plans to fully mend his relationships with any of them. He just can’t afford to do that right now, or at all, since he’s still planning to leave once all this is wrapped up.

 

So, instead, he says: “Nothing crazy happened. He’s...going to try to be better, so that’s good. I’m glad I went, honestly.”

 

That part isn’t a lie. He may not have planned for things to work out the way they did but at least some good came out of it. He’s glad he got to see Mikoto and spend time with Choji, Kiba, and Shikamaru. Hell, it wasn’t so bad seeing Fugaku too, even though the man scares the shit out of him.

 

Kushina pats the side of his face, smiling gently. “That’s great, honey.” She murmurs. She smooths down his collar, face suddenly taking on a more complicated expression as she stares at him, making him raise an eyebrow.

 

“What?” Naruto asks, confused. “Do I have something on my face?”

 

“No, but you do have a hickey.” She informs him, laughing at the look he's sporting. “I didn’t see it because of your hair. Don’t make that face; you’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.” She pauses, eyes taking on a devious glint. “I didn’t take Sasuke for a biter. It makes sense, though.”

 

“I’m leaving.” Naruto says, horrified beyond belief. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

 

Kushina laughs at him again, shaking her head.  “What? You think I don’t know you have sex? Grow up, will you?”

 

“Bye, mom.” Naruto says loudly, plugging his ears dramatically.

 

“Aw, you’re embarrassed. That’s so cute.” Kushina replies playfully, pinching his cheeks. “Also, for future reference: if you’re going to have threesomes in her house, make sure Mikoto’s not home next time. She’s a horrible gossip.”

 

Naruto nearly chokes on his tongue, only able to nod in response. God, strike him down right now. He can’t take this. The last person who should know what he gets up to when the sun goes down is his mother, for fuck’s sake!

 

Does this mean that Mikoto’s told everyone? Goddammit!

 

“I’ve always been more of a Neji fan myself, but if you guys find that this works, I’m not against it.” She continues like it’s not killing him inside.

 

“Please stop,” He begs. The first half of her statement gives him pause, and he finds himself asking: “Wait, you knew about me and Neji before this?”

 

“Oh honey, it was obvious to everyone how he felt about you. You’re the only one that missed it.” The amount of pity in her tone should offend him, but everyone knows he’s an idiot. She’s probably right.

 

“I never expected you to go for both of them, though.” She gives him a thumbs up that shouldn’t have him laughing as hard as it does. “A bonafide power move. Didn’t know you had it in you. Mama’s so proud.”

 

He chuckles again, pecking her cheek and bidding her goodbye. “Thanks, I guess?” He says, not sure how he should feel about this conversation.

 

“Is there a special name for it if it's three guys? I’ll google it and get back to you.” She mutters, mostly to herself.

 

Naruto can’t escape fast enough.

 

He throws the door open without another word and flees before she says something worse.

 

Her mocking laughter follows him down the walkway.

 

* * *

**C.**

 

It doesn't go as planned.

 

Well, there wasn't that much of a plan to begin with—the timetable Anko laid out for them didn't leave much wiggle room. They end up agreeing to go the next night. They have to act fast or they'll miss their chance, and Naruto would rather die than let Haku slip through his fingers when he's so close.

 

Still, it's probably his own fault that things turn out the way they do. Either it was the countless mistakes he made leading up to this point—both years ago and days before—his refusal to accept help when it was being so freely given, or his over excitement due to the prospect of having Haku within arms reach.

 

In truth, it's all three. Some strange mixture of stubbornness and bad luck gets him, in the end.

 

See, it starts like this:

 

**...**

 

The best Zabuza can do on such short notice is a large, white van. It's better than nothing, since they'll need a way to shuttle all the captives once they find them.

 

Anko bluntly tells him that she doesn't have anyone she trusts enough to ask for help. Her tone is odd when she says it, so Naruto doesn't press and leaves it at that.

 

Gaara's only option with the time they have is the same as Naruto's—he calls on his clan, but only as a last resort. His brother is a rational man, among _other_ things, so Kankuro knows to leave this is Gaara's hands since the Shukaku have way too much on their plate right now, making their attention a tad divided.

 

That means it's just the four of them. Technically, at least. They could call either group but that only seems like it will cause more problems than it would solve, so they'll try to avoid that.

 

These aren't very good odds, but Naruto's way too blinded by obligation and determination to be swayed into thinking this through.

 

So, despite this being a _terrible_ idea, they go.

 

**...**

 

It's nearly three am when they set off. They drive slowly and do their best to stay off the main roads. Naruto keep his eyes locked on the rearview mirror until they arrive at their destination, watching for any cars that might be following them for a tad too long, suspiciously turning all the same corners.

 

He sees none, but that brings him no comfort.

 

They park the van a block away, wary of any watchful eyes.

 

Zabuza is the logical choice when they have to decide on who stays outside. Someone has to act as lookout and, if necessary, a quick escape. It can’t be Gaara and it can't be Naruto—they’d lose their minds if they had to stay behind and Anko knows how to get into Orochimaru's dens better than any of them. They need her with them for this to work.

 

“I'll leave the car running,” Zabuza says gravely, roughly clapping Gaara on the shoulder. He turns and does the same to Naruto a moment later. “I’ll wait for the signal to pull up. Don't fuck this up.”

 

Naruto nods curtly in response.  “I won't.” He swears seriously. He can't promise that this will go well, but it doesn't matter. Whether this goes smoothly or not, there's only one option—he has to get Haku out no matter the cost.

 

Gaara barely acknowledges Zabuza, checking his gun over instead.

 

“Ready?” He asks without looking up, not content to waste anymore time. He's been quiet all night—too focused and alert. The look in his eyes isn't good at all but Naruto won't comment on it.

 

“Yeah, let's go.”

 

They exit the car as quickly as they can, staying low behind other cars on the street as they make their way to the safehouse.

 

Two of the street lamps are blown out, so it's easier to stick to the shadows.

 

The streets are bare.  Not a soul milling about besides them. The neighborhood is a little sketchy—cracked pavement, overgrown grass, condemned houses, and a old, weathered neighborhood watch sign that shouldn't be as ironic as it is.

 

This quiet corner on the map seems truly abandoned. The perfect place for no good deeds to happen under the cover of night.

 

How Orochimaru found this place is beyond him. Did he pick a safehouse in Kumo territory to throw off the scent? It’s true that no one would coming looking here. It’s the type of neighborhood where people mind their business and don’t call the police.

 

Stll, It makes Naruto wary; regardless of the look of the place, it shouldn't be this easy, he thinks. There aren't any lookouts outside, no guards posted by the door, no alarms to trip that are hidden in the grass. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

 

Wait, yes he does. Fugaku would never leave any entrances unguarded, regardless of the hour. That's one thing he knows for certain.

 

Either Orochimaru isn't as cautious in terms of security or someone already knows that they're here and it's a trap. Both are highly possible, so he keeps his eyes trained on the bushes and all the dark houses they pass, waiting for any strange movement so he can jump into action.

 

“I think a lot of these houses are abandoned.”  Anko whispers, as if sensing his thoughts. She takes a quick look at the some of the boarded up windows and “no trespassing” signs posted on some of the doors. “I guess that explains why no one heard anything.”

 

“Yeah,” Gaara agrees lowly. “I don't see anyone coming around here willingly.”  

 

They're close enough to the house now to see that the front door is reinforced—heavy oak replaced with painted steel, a three-lock system in place that sets off warning bells. If Naruto didn’t know about the girls, he’d think they were walking into a drug den.

 

That means this has to be the right place, because the only reason to have that type of door is to make sure whatever’s inside _stays_ there.

 

Naruto never planned to walk right in, anyway—he’s a lot of things, but he's no Rambo—they still might need to get that door open, though. It'll be the easiest way out once they've found the girls. He files that thought for later.

 

“We can try a window.” Anko suggests confidently, trying to remain in high spirits despite the severity of the situation. “Hopefully we’ll find the right room on the first try.”

 

There can only be so many rooms in a one story house. Unless there's a basement.

 

From the look of the place it doesn't have one, but Naruto will be sure to check anyway.

 

They sneak around the right side of the house, coming upon a small window that's low enough to climb into with ease. It's locked, but Anko can take care of that; she wastes no time, takes out her tools so she can get to work on picking the lock, throwing anxious looks over her shoulder even though Naruto and Gaara are standing guard behind her.

 

Naruto is about to tell her that she doesn't have to worry—if someone were to run up on them now, the two of them would definitely see it and they'd be able to handle the matter accordingly—but he doesn't get the chance. The lock _clicks_ open after a few moments, the window swinging inwardly as if inviting them inside.

 

The three of them share a look. Now they have a way in, but the pitch black room hidden beyond the window is nowhere near inviting. They have no idea who—or what—lies inside, but they have no choice to find out.

 

Naruto takes a deep breath and places his hands on the window sill, hoisting himself up and over in one quick, decisive moment.

 

His mother's gun is brought from his hip immediately; He's on high alert, spinning in a slow circle, wary of the gathered shadows and small pockets of light that look too much like sharp, smiling teeth in the darkness.

 

Only illusions in the end, because after careful consideration he can confidently say that this room is—

 

“Clear.” He motions to the others, deflating with a sigh of minor relief.

 

He's landed in the laundry room. Nothing of note lies inside. A good place to start off so they can get their bearings, but they should move along quickly.

 

Anko follows him inside next, landing gracefully behind him, feet silent like a cat. Gaara brings up the rear, quietly pulling the latch shut without locking it behind him.

 

Cool, cool, they're in.

 

“Alright,” Gaara says lowly, minor excitement creeping into his tone despite the persisting dark look in his eyes. “We'll keep this as quick and clean as we can. Sounds good?”

 

He looks to Naruto for confirmation and Naruto can only nod stiffly in response, fingers curling around his gun tightly to hide his nerves. He's not sure when he became the unofficial leader of this small outfit, but Anko's looking to him like he's in charge as well, so that's why he says, firmly:

 

“Of course.” They don't have time to waste, not with two clans breathing down their necks, ready for action. “Remember: the girls come first. We get them out no matter what. Keep that in mind in case something goes wrong. Do what you have to do to make sure they get out safe.”

 

He doesn't like the way he sounds right now: too cold and clinical. He sounds way too much like the trained soldier he used to be and it's making him uncomfortable.

 

They get the message though; if it comes down to it, one of their lives may be forfeit. It doesn't matter as long as they finish what they came to do.

 

Anko whispers her agreement, looking around at the blackened room to avoid meeting their eyes. Her clenched fist isn't shaking, so he'll take that as a good sign.

 

Gaara's jaw is set when he nods. He grips Naruto's shoulder in some awkward mix of comfort and warning, as if Gaara's trying to ease his anxiety while also telling him not to die. It's somewhat cute to Naruto, but also makes it glaringly obvious that Gaara isn't used comforting others or showing his affection. He doesn't have time to worry about it now, but if they make it out of this he'll make sure to give the man a nice hug.

 

Everyone deserves a nice hug every once in a while, right? Especially someone has jaded and closed off as Gaara.

 

Naruto pats his arm in reply, managing a small smile despite himself

 

Then, they're off.

 

The door creaks softly as Naruto pushes it open— his weapon going first, his body soon to follow. They spill out into darkened hall toe to heel, pressed close to the wall so the wooden floors don't protest loudly, announcing their presence.

 

Naruto looks to the left, eyeing the front door since he had plans to open it. It doesn't look like that's going to work, not if the heavy padlocks hanging on it are any indication. There's three separate locks which means three separate keys. God knows where he'd find them in this house, so that's out.

 

It'll be a hassle to get everyone out through the window, but it looks like they'll have to do just that. Shit.

 

There's another door directly across from the laundry room. It's silent—like the rest of the house—no light coming from beneath it. Naruto gets a strange feeling from looking at it, so he shakes his head when Gaara asks if they should try and open it.

 

He doesn't think they'd keep the “valuable merchandise” so close to the front, even with the exit as locked down as it is. No, the girls will be kept deeper inside. That's just his hunch but he's sticking with it.

 

Gaara still wants to check closer to the front, so they do. Naruto's slides his hand across the wall as they move, careful not to stumble since there's barely any light to be found. Since the house is so small, the living room and kitchen area is comprised of a wide open space with no walls separating the two.

 

There's a widescreen TV on it's perch, crisp scenes from some late-night show playing idly with the volume set to low. Naruto stops short when he looks to the couch, breath catching when he sees two people lounging, bodies twisted in sleep. One goon snores while the other drools, but luckily, neither of them stir.   Naruto and the others back pedal quickly, silently agreeing to stay away from the front area.

 

He doesn't feel so bad about the front door now that he knows about the two goons on the couch. There’s no way they’d get past them even if they did manage to get the locks open. It’s just not possible to be that quiet with so many people.

 

They have no choice but to turn around, passing by the door Naruto's too hesitant to open.

 

There's only two other rooms to try in the small house. He's not sure what he'll do if they happen to be empty, but his heart begins to beat harder at the thought of it, fear creeping into his veins that this could be all for naught.

 

What if Orochimaru already sent the girls off? What if this is the wrong house and Haku and Temari aren't even here? What if this _is_ a trap, and Anko's going to betray them any second?

 

(Shit, he didn't think this through. They shouldn't have done this alone. He should have let—

 

No, he's got this. Everything is fine.

 

Naruto doesn't need anyone to clean up his messes. He can do this himself. )

 

They make it to the end of the hall slowly, more alert now that they've come across the opposition. There's another set of rooms across from each other again—one on the left and one on the right. Naruto hesitates on which to pick. They don’t have time for his indecisiveness, so he forces himself to try the door on the left.

 

He levels his gun as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob, sending a look over his shoulder to Gaara at the last moment for reassurance.

 

Gaara's gives him a hard look in reply, nodding sharply, raising his own piece in preparation. Anko swallows roughly, looking between the two of them briefly before she swings her eyes to the door as swings open.

 

Someone rushes towards them from inside the room.  

 

The subtle sound of bare feet running against carpet is the only warning he gets before a solid right hook is catching Naruto in his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He's just able to stifle his gasp as he's pushed backwards.

 

But the pain in his middle is nothing compared to the panic in his mind when he thinks that his body is going to hit the opposite wall and make a hell of a lot of noise.

 

He can’t allow that to happen, can he? Absolutely not.

 

Naruto’s feet dig into the floor, causing him to slow his momentum enough to stumble back instead of crashing to the wall.

 

He feels exhausted immediately; tensing his muscles that hard to fight the force of that punch took a lot of energy. A normal person might have let themselves crumble to the ground, but Naruto?

 

He’s honestly surprised he pulled that off. It's been a long time since he's took a direct punch that well. He wonders if being back in his hometown gives him an automatic stat boost? Things to think about later.  

 

Anko's eyes are wide, her face losing it's color as she watches the proceedings. The look she gives Naruto _—_ after he manages to keep quiet despite being violently hit _—_ would be hilarious if not for the offending force that’s still trying to attack them.

 

It doesn't matter though—Gaara springs forward immediately after the girl punches him, grabbing her by the neck as she tries to swing again at Naruto's unguarded face, pushing her back into the room she just _sprung_ out of.

 

The girl chokes at the sudden force of it. Her feet dangle off the ground slightly—causing her to kick and claw at Gaara's wrist as he holds her.

 

Naruto would try and protest if he wasn't so focused on getting air back in lungs. He swallows a cough, pushing past the burning tightness in his chest to slowly follow Gaara inside.

 

Anko looks sharply up the hall, towards the living room. She waits to see if the goons have woken up from that ordeal—it still made quite a bit of noise, even though Gaara and Naruto both did their best to suppress it.

 

She waits to see if they’re already standing up, alerted, _waiting around the corner—_

 

But nothing stirs.

 

No one’s heard enough to discover them yet.

 

Her eyes stay trained in the direction of the living room, body stiff and still like a statue. She notices Naruto's look of question when he realizes she's not coming in behind him, and she shakes her head.

 

“Take care of it.” She whispers fiercely. She pulls out her gun and _clicks_ off the safety, pointing it up the hall. “If either of them move, I'll end them.”

 

Naruto can only nod, knowing full well he won't be able to to change her mind. He turns around, ready to calm Gaara down and tell him to _let the girl_ _breathe, goddammit_ , but it seems his services aren't needed.

 

Gaara already put the girl down and started talking to her while Naruto was speaking to Anko— about what, Naruto isn't sure. Maybe Gaara's calming her down so she won't try to attack them again.

 

But then the girl loops her arms around Gaara's neck in what can only be described as a loving hug, much to Naruto's confusion. Curious still, Gaara willingly returns the hug, mumbling something into her shoulder in a voice Naruto's never heard before—too wrecked, too gentle, too kind and apologetic for him to be talking to anyone other than—

 

Naruto pats around the wall until he finds the light switch, revealing two sets of girls huddled in opposite corners.

 

He counts about fifteen girls in total, ranging in age from about thirteen to twenty. They're shaking, eyes round from fear as they watch what's happening in front of them.

 

Naruto can't even begin to describe his relief.

 

They've found them.

 

The girls are safe—well, maybe not _safe_ , but certainly alive. For a moment there, he wasn't sure if they'd find any traces of them before Anko told them about Orochimaru's plans. He's heard plenty of stories about young girls going missing that are never seen again.  

 

But here they are, present and accounted for. A little banged up and frightened, but whole. He wants nothing more to get them back to their families as soon as he can.

 

The girl Gaara's hugging pulls away, smile on her face and tears in her eyes, looking over to Naruto in slight apology.

 

It seems that Gaara’s automatically forgiven for trying to choke slam her, but that makes sense. Naruto knows who she is immediately—the eye color is different, as well as the hair, but looking at them now, Naruto can definitely see the similarities between Temari Shukaku and her brother.

 

“Sorry for punching the shit out of you,” She says softly, embarrassed laughter in her tone. “But you took it like a champ. I can see why Gaara brought you along.” Temari squints, taking an abortive step forward now that she can see him in the light. “Wait, you’re Naruto Uzumaki aren’t you?”

 

“In the flesh.” He confirms with a lighthearted salute. There’s no point in lying. Everyone knows how notorious he is around here, by now.

 

Temari nods sagely, leaving it at that. If she’s wondering why her brother is in league with someone like him, she’s not going to ask right now.

 

She turns back to Gaara, patting the side of his face affectionately. Gaara leans into her touch with a heavy sigh, brows furrowed as he takes in her warmth.

 

Naruto’s honestly not sure if he should be watching the two of them. This is a private moment that he hates intruding on, but they have to get moving.

 

“Gaara.” He says quietly, garnering the other man’s attention. Gaara’s eyes snap open, looking at him blankly before his eyes sharpen with resolve.

 

“Right,” He says, nodding once in confirmation. He’s regarding Temari when he says: “We have to go. Can you convince the girls to come with us?”

 

“Yeah,” Temari replies easily. “I didn’t know who was on the other side of that door, but I thought I’d try to overtake them and steal their keys or something.” She says with a grin, surprising them. “This works out much better. Now we don’t have to escape on our own.”

 

Naruto chuckles at that, amused. That sounds more like the Temari he’s heard about. Tough as nails and ready for action no matter what.

 

She had no idea if the plan would work, but she was going to try it anyway. It’s oddly reminiscent of their own plan, funnily enough.

 

Gaara’s looking at her with something that might be reverence—eyes warm and pleased as he gazes at his older sister with pride for her tenacity.

 

(Naruto would comment about cute he is around her, but Gaara most likely wouldn’t appreciate it, especially not at a time like this.)

 

Temari looks to the girls behind her, beckoning them to stand. They hesitate, looking back and forth between Gaara and Naruto with poorly disgusted mistrust.

 

Naruto can’t blame them; the men here probably haven’t been very kind to them. Not to mention that Gaara grabbed Temari by her freaking _neck_ before they figured out that they were on the same side.

 

But the girls get up anyway on unsteady legs, watching through their lashes, shoulders rolled to make them appear smaller.

 

He feels bad, seeing them so frightened. But he can't stop and offer comfort when they're not in the clear just yet.

 

Naruto wastes no time cutting open the zip ties around their wrists. He feels a surge of hot rage when he sees the angry-red marks that persist despite their hands being freed, but stamps it down as quickly as it comes.

 

It’s only in the next moment that he realizes, coldly, that:

 

**Haku’s not here.**

 

He’d been too distracted watching Temari and Gaara’s reunion to notice before now, too overjoyed that the girls are ok. He looks at each girl that he cuts loose, subtly checking them over for any injuries, heart sinking to the depths when none of the eyes he meets brighten with recognition.

 

_He’s. Not. Here._

 

His throat begins to tighten, brain scrambling to make sense of this.

 

Where is he? Where could he be? Where, if not here with the rest?

 

Does that mean—?

 

“Naruto,” Gaara begins lowly, eyes searching the room when he realizes the same thing. Naruto shakes his head sharply, trying not to panic.

 

“It’s okay,” He says evenly.

 

It’s not. Not at all. He’s about to entirely _lose_ it but he can’t afford to. He has to keep a level head and see this through.

 

There’s other places in the house that remain unexplored, he reasons. They haven’t exhausted all their options yet.

 

But now that they have the girls secured, getting them out is top priority. He can’t risk this many lives for one person, no matter how much he wants to find him.

 

That’s why he turns to Gaara and demands: “Go. Take the girls and get them to the van. Take Anko with you. I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

 

Gaara immediately refuses, stepping away from Temari to grab Naruto’s arm in warning. “You’re _not_ going alone,” He tries.

 

Where has Naruto heard _that_ before?

 

Naruto shakes him off, ready to wholeheartedly disagree, but Temari quickly cuts in.

 

“If you’re looking for Haku, he’s just across the hall.” She says matter-of-factly. Naruto raises an eyebrow at her while Gaara blinks, both of them looking to her in question. She shrugs, explaining:

 

“That’s who you’re looking for, right? He talked about you.” When Naruto doesn't reply, she continues.

 

“They didn’t keep him with us since he’s a guy and technically a prisoner. They weren’t planning on sending him off with us, if you know what I mean.”

 

 _Thank god,_ he thinks, deflating. Naruto doesn’t want to know what they were planning to do to his friend after the girls were sold. He won’t worry too much about it, since now he has the power to stop both of those things.

 

He’ll ignore the absolute fucking _rampage_ he was about to go on as well. At her words, he corks that anger up and sticks it on the far end of his mental shelf with a sign that reads “to be explored later.”

 

It’s not good to keep these feelings bottled up, but such conversations are better held outside of the lion’s den. Or, maybe he’ll save it for his therapist back home. Either works.

 

“Alright, then.” Gaara says, pulling out his phone and tapping out a message quickly. “I’ll tell Zabuza to pull up.”

 

He’s already moving out into the hall, flicking the light back off as he leaves. He stops only to usher Temari in front of him so he can literally watch her back.

 

Naruto looks to the girls, pressing his finger to his lips so they’ll remain quiet. He motions for them to follow Gaara, waiting until they’ve moved out into the hall single file before he exits behind them.

 

Anko smiles at him in the darkness, pleased, only for her face to fall when she sees the look on his.

 

“What’s wrong?” She whispers, brows furrowing.

 

“Haku’s in the other room,” He explains, “I’m going to get him. Go outside with the others.”

 

Akno hesitates—mouth twisting like she’s about to say something—but she buttons her lips at the last second and nods instead, squeezing his shoulder in support. It’s over as quickly as it started, but Naruto does feel minorly comforted by it.

 

“If you don’t see me in ten minutes,” He adds gravely. “Tell them to pull off.”

 

Anko’s eyes widen slightly, but she still manages a level reply.

 

“Okay…” She trails off, raising her gun and looking away. “Make it quick. I’m not leaving you unless we absolutely have to.”

 

Naruto doesn’t bother responding. If he does happen to be caught, he hopes the others have enough sense to leave him behind. As long as the girls are safe, as long as Haku's alive and makes it out of this, he doesn’t care what happens to him.

 

That’s a lie, but it’s not like anyone’s going to call him on it.

 

Anko makes her way back up the hall. She sends him a look _—_ a quiet, deeply regretful look, but Naruto waves her off.

 

He waits for her to reach the laundry room before crossing the hall, twisting the door open slowly, unsure of what he’s going to find inside.

 

The room is just as dark as the rest of the house—the small sink and clawfoot tub that he can barely make out let him know that this is the bathroom.

 

No movement.

 

It doesn’t seem like anyone’s in here.

 

Naruto doesn’t immediately sense anyone inside, but he forces himself to think rationally.

 

Haku’s probably asleep, he tells himself, or he’s pretending to be. He doesn’t know that it’s Naruto who’s come looking for him and he probably doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

 

Naruto feels around on the wall, looking for the lightswitch, flicking it on as soon as he closes the door behind him.

 

Haku’s got his knees to his chest, looking no worse for the wear, one wrist hanging limply from the small, wall-mounted radiator by the sink. It rattles loudly when Haku flinches back sharply in sleep-addled panic, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sudden light shining too brightly overhead.

 

They both freeze, staring at each other in tense silence.

 

Haku gasps, eyes filling with overwhelming relief that comes in the form of tears. “Naruto?” He whispers in disbelief, his free hand shaking as it reaches for him.

 

Naruto flings himself forward without hesitation, throwing his arms around Haku tightly, holding on for dear life. Haku melts into him immediately, shuddering as he rests his head on Naruto’s shoulder. He’s got the front of Naruto’s shirt in vice-grip while his lips spill out heartfelt, grateful words.

 

“I knew you’d find me,” He sobs softly. Naruto buries his face in Haku’s hair and thanks God for the first time in a very long time, willing down his own tears as he holds his friend as close as he can. He’s almost afraid that this is an illusion and Haku disappear if he blinks too hard.

 

“I knew you’d come.” Haku babbles. Tears fall freely, staining the ground in his image. “ I should have never come here by myself.” He speaks quickly, voice so cracked with sobs that it’s hard to understand him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

 

“It’s okay.” Naruto assures, feeling the strangest urge to laugh wildly, despite himself. Haku couldn’t have possibly known how bad Konoha was, especially since Naruto was hard pressed to tell him about this place.

 

There’s so much that Naruto’s experienced here that he couldn’t bear to tell anyone. Someone as kind and sweet as Haku can’t even fathom the horrors these streets hide, and Naruto will do his damndest to assure he doesn’t have to see any more of it.

 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. “ He says gently.

 

Naruto's pretty sure he's never been so happy in his life. Haku's here, _alive_ , despite someone's best efforts. He can't ask for more than that.

 

His friend is a bit bruised and beaten—there’s a cut on his forehead that needs to be checked out, the old blood that spilled from it causing Haku's hair to stick to his face. He's thinner than he was, too: Naruto doubts the goons worried too much about feeding him since he was a prisoner and slated for death.

 

“Naruto—” Haku begins, but they've already spent enough time here.

 

“We’ll talk about all that later, okay?” Naruto says, voice soft yet firm.  “Let’s get you out of here first.”

 

Haku sniffles, nodding weakly. Naruto wastes no time freeing him, using his trusty knife to break the zip tie that cutting into Haku’s wrist. He frowns deeply at the red marks—all too tempted to stomp back to the living room and make those men pay for hurting his friend— but he refrains, gathering Haku in his arms instead so they can escape.

 

Haku’s a bit unsteady on his feet. He probably hasn’t used his legs much in the past few weeks so it takes a few tries to get him upright.

 

Naruto’s okay with having to shoulder his weight—he’ll be doing a lot of that in the coming days anyway, since it will no doubt take some time for Haku to recover from this ordeal both mentally and physically. It takes a bit of adjusting, but he manages to get Haku draped across him while holding his gun with his other hand.

 

Haku flinches at the sight of it, looking at him with wide eyes.

 

“You didn’t shoot anyone, did you?” He whispers quietly, gaze fixed on the gun.

 

“No,” Naruto replies lowly, glad he doesn’t have to lie about such a thing. “I tried my best to avoid that.”

 

“Good,” Haku says, looking at him with unbridled happiness. “That’s good.”

 

Haku smiles softly, closing his eyes and pressing his head against Naruto’s shoulder. Naruto can’t help but feel pleased, too; he didn’t have to rely _too_ heavily on his old self to get the job done. There’s something revolutionary about that, at least to him. There has to be a happy medium for this somewhere, isn't there?—a way to use the skills he has for good, instead of recklessly hurting people wherever he goes.

 

Maybe he can really change this time. Maybe things will actually be different, once this is over.

 

Naruto feels hopeful for the first time in a long time. Maybe this time, he can _—_

 

But he has to think about that later. He still needs to get Haku out of here before they can get to the “skipping town” part he’s been talking about this whole time. Naruto forces himself to focus, trying not to get caught in another swell of emotion.

 

They exit the bathroom as quietly as they can.

 

The hall is still clear when they make their way back to the laundry room. Naruto pauses every few seconds, ears straining to hear any movement. There’s none, but that brings him no comfort.

 

Haku’s eyes are darting back and forth as well. He’s holding his breath unconsciously and Naruto would tell him to stop so he doesn’t hurt himself, but they’re inside and near the window soon enough.

 

In the time it took for Naruto to retrieve Haku, it seems that Gaara and Anko managed to get the captives outside quickly and efficiently. Naruto can’t help but grin at that. Their team might have been small, but they were well suited for the operation that was just carried out. Naruto will definitely have to buy the two of them a beer, as well as Zabuza for providing the car and most of the information that got them here.

 

“There’s a big white van outside,” Naruto informs Haku, cupping his hands so he can boost him up to reach the window.  “I came with some friends and they’re already inside. As soon as you land, I want you to run straight for it, alright? I’ll be right behind you.”

 

Haku nods slowly, biting his lips in nervousness. Naruto watches him try to collect himself, smiling in encouragement when Haku’s gets his legs over the side, swinging them slightly as he prepares himself to drop.

 

He sends one last look to Naruto before he drops down, landing softly in the grass. He follows Naruto’s instructions, taking off towards the van as soon as he’s outside. Naruto grins, hopping slightly so he can reach the window’s edge, pushing himself up with his arms and bracing one of his feet against the wall so he can pull up.

 

That’s as far as he gets.

 

He didn’t hear anything behind them— how he missed the warning signs is anyone's guess—but suddenly someone grabs at his leg just as Naruto’s halfway out the window, jerking him backwards.

 

He stubbornly digs his fingernails into the windowsill, eyes trained on Haku’s retreating form as the other man makes his way from the side of the house in what feels like slow motion.

 

Naruto can see to the street from this angle. He can the van’s door is thrown wide open _—_ Temari’s beckoning wildly for Haku to hurry up as she leans out of it. Naruto makes eyes contact with her for a split second—her eyes blowing wide when she realizes he’s half-stuck inside, struggling against someone.

 

Haku notices her face, too, right as he gets to the curb. He turns, shock and grief covering his face when he sees that Naruto isn't behind him.  He’s not quick enough to do anything—not scream, not cry, not run back to help— before Gaara’s pulling him inside the van by his collar and shutting the door with a echoing slam.

 

Naruto manages to catch Zabuza’s eyes in the driver’s seat, the older man looking just as devastated as Haku as he comes to the grim understanding that—

 

Naruto’s not going to make it.

 

That much is obvious.

 

The hand on his leg becomes two and pulls at him harder. He kicks wildly, trying to loosen the hold on his ankle, but it’s not working very well.

 

He manages to yell out a guttural: “Go!” while he’s still hanging out of the window, feeling momentary relief when he sees that Zabuza’s heard him and the other man nod stiffly in reply. In the next second, the tires are screeching to life and the van is swerving off down the street in a scene that could have come straight out of a movie.

 

Not a bad exit, he thinks. They managed to get all the girls out, plus Haku and Temari, with time to spare. Almost flawless execution, if he says so himself.

 

Except for the part where he’s suddenly being pulled back by the hair, only to be roughly thrown on the floor. The window slams shut quickly now that he’s not half-hanging out of it.

 

He grunts, bones protesting the rough treatment, coughing when his attackers kick him in the stomach as soon as he lands.

 

Naruto blinks up at the ceiling, winded, swallowing thickly when he sees that someone’s leaning over him in the dark. The gun the man holds glitters dangerously in the moonlight.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” The goon demands, kicking him again for good measure. Naruto doesn’t bother answering—he’s going to be killed regardless. He knows that.

 

He might as well hold his tongue and refrain from snitching on himself while he’s at it. “Answer me, motherfucker!” The man screams, aiming the gun at Naruto’s forehead.

 

“Fuck!” Someone calls from the hallway, distracting them. He barrels inside the laundry room not a moment later with colorful curses on his lips. “The girls are gone!”

 

The first goon looks to Naruto in fury, his gun shaking in his hands from anger as he steels himself to shoot Naruto between the eyes.

 

Well, there are worst ways to go out.

 

That’s what Naruto's telling himself, at least, while making peace with his fate with an almost unnerving level of calm. He’ll die knowing that he saved children from sexual slavery. He couldn’t ask for much more than that.

 

Not to mention that one of his best friends in the whole world is safe because of him, and Gaara got his sister back.  

 

That’s good.

 

That’s good _enough._

 

There’s more he wanted to do but he guesses this is as far as he goes. At least he has no regrets.

 

That’s a lie, obviously. He has plenty, but it’s not like there’s anyone around who will call him on it.

 

“Wait,” Another voice says. A light flickers on in the room, bathing them in harsh fluorescent light. This voice sounds startlingly familiar to him, which is unexpected. Naruto narrows his eyes, combing his brain as he wonders where he’s heard that voice before.

 

He can’t quite see him from his place on the ground, but that doesn’t matter since the new voice comes  inside to loom over him, looking down at Naruto’s prone form with a promising smile.

 

“I know you.” The new voice says in a curious tone, grinning wider when he sees that Naruto recognizes him, too.

 

It’s one of the twins who attacked him years ago, under Suigetsu's order. Naruto has no hope of figuring out which one. He looks older—face blotchy and gaunt from years of drug use—but Naruto would recognize his face anywhere.

 

He’s dreamed about their faces too many times—every single person who was there that day— to be anywhere close to being mistaken.

 

**_Fuck._ **

 

“Don’t kill him yet,” The twin continues, barking orders to the others like maybe he's in charge. “We can have fun with this one.”

 

He gives Naruto an odd look when he says it, hanging back while the other goons tie him up. If Naruto wasn’t already about to vibrate out of his skin, he might find the man’s gaze uncomfortable.

 

“What’s an Uchiha doing on this side of town, I wonder?” He asks in an overly saccharine tone that makes Naruto sick. “Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?”

 

Naruto's being forced to his feet in the next moment,  trying and failing to think of something witty to say in reply— anything, really. If these are to be some of his last words, he wants them to be absolute zingers— but Naruto can’t manage to form the words before someone’s smashing their gun into the side of his face, knocking him out cold.

 

**…**

So _yeah_ , it doesn’t go as planned.

 

He’s not sure what he expected. Smooth sailing? Not fucking likely.

 

He should know better, at this point. Still, It went better than he hoped. That counts for something

 

He knew this was a suicide mission from the start. The fact that he’s going to be the only casualty isn’t so bad when you think about it.

 

It’s only with Naruto’s last coherent thoughts that he remembers—

 

He never had the chance to call off Neji and Sasuke’s promised backup.

 

Shit, shit, shit, shit—!

 

If they come looking for him, who knows what could happen. Hs efforts to avoid all out war are going to be for naught, once they realize he’s been taken.

…

 

Damn, this really won’t end well, will it?

 


	8. Eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8, everyone! I wasn't too graphic but there are some mentions/descriptions of torture in this chapter so be warned.

* * *

 

**Eight.**

 

“People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.”

 

― George Orwell.

* * *

 

**A.**

 

Naruto is five years old when he learns to be a stone. Not quite a boulder, because boulders are strong, large, unmoving. He is still weak, soft, and malleable. He will not be a boulder for a long while.

 

Even his father agrees with this type of training, despite being so against the life that they live. He knows that Naruto will become a soldier sooner or later—in name, in strife, and in blood—so he sits in and watches, curiously saying nothing as Fugaku takes the lead and teaches all the children how to be a true Uchiha.

 

To be unblinking and unflinching, no matter what happens to the body. To preserve the spirit in the face of suffering. Naruto is far too young to understand these concepts, as are the others, but they must learn all the same.  

 

Naruto would sit there, shoulder to shoulder with his brothers— all three of them propped up on knobby, skinned knees—and he’d fight to keep his focus as best he could.

 

But a child’s mind is meant to wander. Bright birds on their branches singing sorrowful songs make his ears twitch in curiosity. The smell of Mikoto’s cooking would waft in through the cracks in the door and his poor, empty stomach would rumble low.  He’d crack his eye open—just a bit, not too much, or Fugaku would notice—and he’d see a tiny row of soldiers marching back through a fissure in the wall with bounty on their backs.

 

“Naruto.” Fugaku would say solemnly, shaking his head this way and that like he’s disappointed. Naruto was a fool to think he wouldn’t spot his inattention like the hawk he is. “Stand up.”

 

He’d send a quick look over to the only true boulder that he knows, for reassurance. But Itachi wasn’t looking. Of course he wasn’t. His eyes were still shut and his body stock still. A natural statue since birth, the older boy never had to worry about punishments because he always did what he was told. The only change on his face was the slight pulling of his mouth down into a frown, but it was only noticeable to Naruto because he watches Itachi’s face often enough to know.

 

Sasuke’s tiny fists would clench and Neji would sigh heavily through his nose, but neither one of them was brave enough to save Naruto from his fate. They were never to speak up during training unless directly spoken to and this time would be no different.

 

Naruto doesn’t want to stand, knowing full well what’s coming, but it would only get worse if he disobeyed further. The sudden _thwack_ of Fugaku’s walking stick against his knees catches him by surprise no matter how many times it’s happened. One minute he’d be up and the next minute his nose would be smashed against the hard floor, stinging with pain. He checks it, makes sure there’s no blood seeping out (not this time) and wills himself not to cry.

 

Neji shuts his eyes tight beside him—his friend never did like seeing him suffer, no matter who was the cause of it. Sasuke’s shoulders shake as he tries to reign his emotions in, biting his lip to stop himself from voicing his protest. It doesn’t work as well as he’d hope but at least he’s spared from his father’s scrutiny for now. Itachi, as usual, doesn’t flinch—he remains still and focused, like Naruto should be, but his frown and the tick above his eyebrow reveals his true feelings.

 

The challenge in Fugaku’s eyes is unmistakable. He wants Naruto to openly weep like the baby he is—to run and hide in his mother’s skirts and flinch whenever Fugaku came near—but he won’t.

 

Naruto won’t, because he is Uzumaki and they’ve never been known to run. He won’t, because he is Minato’s son and his father is more stubborn and braver than anyone.

 

(That’s what Fugaku said he liked about him. He is equal parts his mother and father; clever and tough like Kushina, driven and fearless like Minato)

 

When he is five years old, Naruto learns how to take pain. He learns how to leave his body in the face of torture. He learns how to curb his tongue and smother his screams even though he wishes to beg for reprieve, like a good yakuza should. He learns how to steel his mind and let no one break him.

 

One day, when they are back to back with blood on their fists and their eyes shine like gold, they will truly understand. Until then, they must learn how to be strong. That's what Fugaku says after their lessons while patting them on the head one by one—

(Because he is not cold and ruthless _all_ the time, only when it counts)

 

That's what Kushina whispers to him while she dresses his wounds like only a mother can. That's all Sasuke talks about when the three of them are alone—his eyes dancing in the moonlight even though they're supposed to be asleep. The slightest mention of their birthright never fails to bring endless excitement and fills them with almost overwhelming expectation.

 

Because Sasuke wants to be strong like Itachi and Fugaku already are. Neji wants to be worthy of his family name. And Naruto? He just wants to be strong like _all_ of them.

 

That's why, when he's held down by his captors—one twin for each arm, so reminiscent of the past that it makes him sick—and his fingernails are peeled off one by one—

 

Naruto doesn't scream.

 

He remembers **himself**. How he used to be before everything went to shit. Before he was afraid of Sasuke and what he was capable of. Before he felt like he couldn't trust Itachi with his secrets anymore, in fear that the older man would use them against him. Before he made a mess of his relationships with his friends and left them all behind out of guilt and sadness.

 

He rejected that boy for so long after he left, but man, does he come in handy now.

 

He remembers his want to be strong. His _need_ to be, so he could keep up with the others. He remembers how to be a proper stone. A boulder, finally, after all these years of waiting. There's no one around to watch—no one at all— but he can finally show off all his hard work.

 

That's why, when his captors take turns cutting into his skin, laughing at the blood they spill like the sadistic fucks they are, Naruto doesn't scream. He doesn't flinch when one of his wrists is broken, when his face is smashed in and his nose breaks with a sickening _crunch_.

 

He only stares at the ceiling, counting the tiles one by one for each fingernail taken, for the cuts blooming on his skin the flowers, gritting his teeth so hard that he worries he's going to wear them down into nothing.

 

It won't matter soon; they're going to kill him. That much is certain. He's not stupid enough to think he'll survive this. No one is coming for him—and even if they are, it will probably be too late, anyway—so he's resigned himself to dying in this dirty garage that they've taken him to, deep in Yakushi territory.

 

After all, he ruined the operation that Orochimaru spent months organizing. That's money down the drain and he'll pay dearly for wasting it.

 

That, and Orochimaru probably couldn't wait to get his hands on a bonafide Uchiha after all these years, even if Naruto barely counts anymore.

 

“You know,” Sakon says casually to his brother, wiping off the bloody pilers in his hand on Naruto's sleeve. Tch. How disrespectful. “I always heard that the Uchiha were pretty intense, but this takes the cake. It's been six hours and he hasn't even shed a tear. That's pretty scary, if I'm honest.”

 

Ukon nods, looking over Naruto's form like he's almost impressed. “Maybe you should cut his hands off next. I bet that will get a peep out of him.”

 

Naruto can't help the deep breath he takes at that, snapping back to attention finally after what felt like hours of dissociating. He does his best to school his face so the twins won't see how the words affect him.

 

Fugaku didn't teach him how to deal with getting his fucking _hands_ cut off! He can take a lick or two, sure, but losing limbs?!? There's no coming back from that. He tries his best not to outright panic, repeating a calming mantra to himself to ease is nerves.

 

It's fine. This is fine. He's already dealt with plenty of pain, what's a little more?

 

If he has to die, he'd rather go out a half-baked martyr than some filthy rat.

 

They've asked him repeatedly what his orders were—who sent him, who told him about the location of the safehouse, who drove off with the girls and where are they hiding now?—but he's bit his tongue and said nothing.

 

He doesn't plan on snitching even if they up the ante.

 

They won't get anything out of him because he'd honestly rather die than jeopardize anyone he cares about.

 

Fuck it, let them cut off his hands and feet if they must. Let them flay the skin off his bones and bury him alive in the woods if they have to.

 

(That's a lie. He doesn't want any of that. But he's already fucked up and made himself believe it.)

 

“No, don't.” Jirobo protests gruffly from a chair in the corner, lazily lighting a cigarette as he watches the proceedings.

 

(He let the twins take over to give his knuckles a rest. They began to ache after repeatedly smashing against Naruto's cheekbones for over an hour. The big man was only satisfied when Naruto began to spit blood after each strike.)

 

“Kabuto said we could hurt him, but not that much. Stick with the small shit.”

 

“Kabuto isn't here,” Ukon counters with a sneer. Jirobo narrows his eyes but allows him to continue. “This is already going to cause a shit storm; we might as well do what we want.”

 

 _Of course_ Kabuto knows that Naruto's here. Or course he does, because that lying son of a bitch probably planned for all of this to happen. Naruto's honestly surprised that he didn't want to be present for this; he's sure the creep always wanted to see Naruto brought to his knees, just like Naruto couldn't wait to catch him slipping _just once_ so he could take advantage of it.

 

Still, it’s a bit baffling to hear that Kabuto hasn't already ordered his goons to kill him. Naruto can't understand why. Or, he can: once it gets out that Naruto's been killed by the Yakushi it'll be all-out war, and either side won't stop until the other is destroyed. There will be no cease-fire this time, no flimsy talks of peace or twisted olive branches—not with Itachi at the helm, with Neji and Sasuke at his back.

 

They'll tear this world apart for him, and everyone knows it.

 

Maybe the Yakushi aren't ready for that, or maybe they're waiting for the perfect moment so they can savor the carnage. Maybe it's a bit of both.

 

“Don't be stupid,” Jirobo grunts, shaking his head.. “If you fuck this up, that's on you. Have your fun but don't lose your mind.” The twins don't respond right away, sharing a look with each other that Jirobo decides he doesn't like. That's why he says, quieter: “You won't like what happens when Kabuto's pissed off.”

 

 _That_ seems to shut them up; Ukon shifts uncomfortably, like he's incurred Kabuto's wrath before and isn't so keen on doing it again. Sakon huffs—obviously more rebellious out of the two—before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth.

 

Sakon doesn't move to find something sharper for cutting off limbs, though.

 

(Naruto will count that as a win)

 

“What are you looking so smug for?” Ukon hisses, leaning down so they're eye to eye.

 

Naruto hasn't moved, hasn't broken his stone face, so he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. “Just because we aren't killing you _yet_ doesn't mean this will get any better for you.”

 

Naruto can't help himself when he slips and says, hoarsely, anger greatly coloring his tone:”You think I don't know that?”

 

He's the one strapped to the table!  Of course this is only going to get worse!

 

All three of them blink in surprise at his words, not expecting him to speak up after so long.

 

Sakon is the first to recover. He grins wide before brandishing his pliers like a gun, holding them only centimeters from Naruto's face.

 

“Oh, so you _can_ talk!” He chirps cheerfully, patting the top of Naruto's head like a child. “Well, now i'm going to make you _sing.”_

 

Naruto looks away from him,  eyes fleeing back to the ceiling. He takes a deep breath, body tensing in preparation. He forces himself to seal his mouth shut so no sound will escape when the metal cuts into his skin. In the ceiling tiles, he sees Fugaku frowning, eyes low and stern like he always remembers.

 

The outline of his ghost nods at Naruto's strength, something like pride in his eyes. Naruto's heart swells as his consciousness waivers.

 

Don't scream, Fugaku mouths slowly. Don't break, don't let them see you sweat.

 

Don't—

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, they get bored of him.

 

Sakon says as much while violently scrubbing off the blood that's caked onto Naruto's body. He purposefully uses a half-dry rag just for added spitefulness. Somehow, that stings more than the various cuts littering his form, but at least Naruto won't have to worry about his wounds getting infected.

 

It's the little things, really.

 

“I plan to savor this,” Sakon informs him, dark promise in his eyes as he inspects his own handiwork. “We can't have you dying just yet.”

 

His actions completely contradict that; Naruto has lost enough blood to make him weak and woozy, not to mention the rough treatment Sakon's giving him now aggravates all the crusted over cuts until they're free-flowing again. Everything he's done has been a valiant effort to steer Naruto towards an early grave, rather than prevent it.

 

But it's not like Naruto's going to call him on it.

 

He's managed to keep his tongue firmly in his mouth and he'd rather it stay that way, thank you very much.

 

“Hurry up.” Jirobo grunts, already standing by the door impatiently. “Just leave him; We'll be back in the morning. He won't get sepsis before then.”

 

He's been ready to leave for hours; Exhaustion crept into his surly tone until it over took it and his stomach grumbles low from lack of food.

 

Naruto can understand his urgency. He himself hasn't eaten in well over a day. At least they gave him a few sips of water so he wouldn't pass out in this hot garage, but he has no clue how he's going to make it through the night being as hungry as he is.

 

“Wait a damn minute, will you?” Ukon snaps at him over his shoulder, rolling his eyes forcefully. He turns back to regard Naruto, adding an annoyingly sarcastic: “Stay put, okay?” before immediately laughing at his own poor joke.

 

Sakon joins him in laughter, and Jirobo shakes his head in exasperation at the twin's antics while steadily tapping his foot, mouth twisting like he wants to say something rude but he holds himself back.

 

Sakon checks to make sure that Naruto's still bound tightly before he leaves, pulling at the ropes to test their give before he's satisfied.

 

There's no way Naruto will be able to get out of his binds. Not with his broken wrist, his hazy vision, not with how tightly the ropes cut into him. Sakon also made sure to move anything sharp far out of reach anyway, so he's not sure what they think he'll be able to accomplish here by himself.

 

He checks anyway because he's weird and paranoid, and Naruto forces himself to stay still as all the tugging jostles his wounds and more friction burns slowly appear on his skin.

 

Ukon waits for Sakon to nod in confirmation before he flips a switch in the far corner, turning off the only light.

 

Blackess floods the place, and Naruto can only see Sakon's bright, white grin as he playfully calls out: “See you tomorrow!” before the three of them are disappearing behind the exit door.

 

He gets a glance of the night sky before the door slams shut—eyes scanning the expanse desperately since all he's seen recently is grey walls and he’s been forced to study them in excruciating detail—but it's both fleeting and heartbreaking in it's quickness.

 

Ah, he thinks.

 

Solitude.

 

“Fuck.” Naruto whispers to himself in the darkness, finally exhaling in one long, hot puff.

 

He lets his fear consume him, now that he's alone. He lets tears fall down his cheeks for all the pain he's endured now that there's no one around to mock him for it. If he cried in front of those three they'd no doubt strive to make him cry _more_ , so no matter how bad it hurt he held back his tears like a true champ.

 

Only a few hours to himself before he has to do this all over again. He's not sure if he's strong enough for round two. It took all of his mental fortitude to make it through the day and he's thoroughly exhausted.

 

He can't let himself think of that. Naruto is already on the verge of a complete mental breakdown and thinking of the new horrors he'll face once the sun rises only quickens his breath and spurs on his sobs.

 

He forces his mind elsewhere— it's easier to, now that he's not being carved up like a pumpkin— wondering what's happening on the outside in his absence.

 

Is his mother nearly inconsolable, calling around to ask where he is and who's seen him? Is Sasuke on an absolute rampage looking for him, going further off the edge due to anger and panic?

 

Will Neji turn a blind eye to it because he's just as upset? Will all their ugliness bubble to the surface because they think they've lost him?

 

Will Naruto ultimately be the match that burns this city to the ground?

 

Nope, those aren't good thoughts either. He has no hope of answering those questions now, so it's pointless to mull over them.

 

It's pointless, but his thoughts stray back to those questions all the same, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself. He shakes his head in the darkness, sighing heavily as he ponders about the unknown.

 

He closes his eyes, counting down from one hundred to ease his worried mind.

 

Maybe it's due to his exhaustion, his torture, his need for distraction—maybe it's a strange mix of the three—but somehow, he manages to fall asleep. Restless as it is, he sleeps.

 

* * *

 

**B.**

 

He dreams in living color.

 

**…**

 

He's seven years old, orange yutaka glowing brightly under the lantern lights of the summer festival.

 

Naruto stands centered as they walk down the promenade—he’s always had to, since both Neji and Sasuke want to hold his hand. They'll argue if they can't, so Naruto stays in the middle to be the buffer between them.

 

They were still allowed to be children in these days. Still ignorant to the darkness in the world and the rottenness of the city they hold so dear. They could swing their hands as they walked with incomplete smiles and nothing else mattered.

 

Kakashi keeps pace at their backs. He's tasked with watching them tonight since the three of them are troublemakers and are prone running off. He always catchs up quickly when they try—spinning them around playfully and pretending to be stern when he says: “Stay put!”, but his eyes are always dancing and his mouth never fails to curve into a smile. It's must be a nice change from Fugaku's relentless intensity, so the man doesn't complain.

 

Their parents aren't far, though: Kushina has her head thrown back, leaning into Minato's shaking shoulder as they stand near a food stall. Hizashi and Hiashi quietly chuckle into their fists, barely heard over his mother's booming laughter. Mikoto's giggle rings like bells and Fugaku shakes his head at the lot of them, even as his lips spasm fruitlessly to hide a smile.

 

They are bathed in gold, eyes shining against the night sky. That's how he remembers the adults—standing tall, like redwoods in the forest. They twist their limbs together in camaraderie just like the branches of a tree.

 

Forever shimmering, laughing, so much love between them that sometimes it was hard to watch.

 

Naruto always looks forward to festival season for this reason, even if it means the end of summertime. All the heaviness in their shoulders finally relaxes. It's good to see his father smiling so wide, it's good to see Fugaku at ease. It’s good to see them all together because that's where they belong.

 

Moments like these never last long—as the life they live always asks for it due—but no matter how temporary, these moments are cherished.

 

Sasuke tugs on his arm impatiently, so eager to see all the festival has to offer that he's barely looking at any of it.

 

Naruto nearly stumbles trying to keep up with him, hating being dragged along. Neji, on his other side, huffs in annoyance but allows himself to be steered, too.

 

(Some things never changed, huh?)

 

“Sasuke,” Kakashi says reprovingly, tone light so he won't upset him. “Slow down, we have all night.”

 

Sasuke blinks, face turning sheepish when he realizes that Neji and Naruto are struggling in his haste.

 

“Sorry,” He mumbles, cheeks coloring.

 

“It's okay,” Naruto replies automatically, squeezing Sasuke's hand in reassurance. Sasuke smiles back at him softly, asking: “What do you want to do first, Naruto?”

 

Naruto looks around, conflicted, before his eyes settle on a prize stall not far ahead of them. “I want a bear,” He says, nodding in it's direction. “And then we can get food.”

 

The other boys seem on board with that, nodding enthusiastically at his suggestion.

 

Neji bumps Naruto's shoulder to get his attention. He laces their fingers together tighter, eyes glowing with determination as he says: “I'll win it for you.”

 

Sasuke immediately protests with a firm shake of his head. “No, I will!” He says stubbornly, folding his arms while Neji sucks his teeth.

 

“There's no reason why you _both_ can't win one for him.” Kakashi chimes in diplomatically, absently looking through his wallet so he can give them the coins to play.

 

Their eyes light up at that—like they hadn't even considered the possibility. They grin to each other in tandem, rushing forward to the stall with their bounty.

 

Naruto looks up at Kakashi with something like reverence, grateful that he managed to defuse a budding argument. Kakashi playfully winks at him, ruffling his hair as they wait for the boys to finish.

 

Sasuke wins Naruto a tiny, patchwork fox. His chest puffs out when Naruto marvels at it and hugs it close to his heart in happiness.

 

“It reminds me of you.” Sasuke informs him seriously, eyes full of something Naruto can't hope to name.

 

Neji wins him a stuffed lion, it's mane wild and colorful. “I'll paint the eyes blue later,” He says, presenting it to Naruto proudly. “That way, you'll both match.”

 

“Thank you,” Naruto says genuinely, hugging them both. He's not sure what he's feeling right now, but his heart is warm and his steps are light. He's suddenly shy, embarrassment creeping up in from of a blush. That's why he hastily says: “Let's eat!” So he doesn't have to dwell on why he feels this way.

 

The boys agree, racing forward to find a good stall. They disagree on which one to pick, as per usual, and it'll be up to Naruto to find a good compromise.

 

Naruto pretends he doesn't see the knowing look in Kakashi's eyes as he quietly chuckles behind them, not exactly sure what it means.

 

**…**

 

Later, when it's time for fireworks, Naruto sits on his father's shoulders.

 

Neji does the same, excited to be so high since there's rarely an opportunity for Hizashi to do this. He cannot help the wide grin on his face as his father smiles up at him.

 

Itachi's come back from hanging with his own set of friends. He offers to let Sasuke sit on his shoulders since he's tall for his age, but it's not quite the same. He's not nearly as tall as his father, much to his chagrin, but he tries anyway. His mouth twists in disappointment when Sasuke politely refuses but he doesn't comment.

 

Sasuke clearly wants to ask Fugaku but his nerves get the best of him. He fidgets, sending little looks to his father that Fugaku can't help but notice.

 

“C'mon,” Minato says softly, playfully slapping Fugaku's arm. “Don't leave him hanging!”

 

Fugaku pretends to consider it, huffing like he's put out, before relenting and bending down.  It's worth it, to see the way Sasuke's eyes light up. He grins toothily at Naruto and Neji, looking like he has to keep himself from bouncing up and down now that his father's let him almost touch the sky.

 

Fugaku's own smile is gentle and warm, his hand firm as it grips Sasuke's leg so he won't fall. He beckons Itachi over, throwing his free arm around his shoulders. Itachi leans into his side quietly, too busy watching his father's face that he almost misses the fireworks.

 

As the lights boom around them, Minato looks up at him, tickling his foot until Naruto giggles.

 

“There’s nothing more important than being together.” He says sagely. The fireworks make it hard to hear him, but Naruto does anyway. “Don’t forget that.”

 

There's nothing like these quiet moments, even though it's so loud that he can't hear anything else.

 

Eyes wide like the moon, he feels...whole.

 

**…**

 

He's thirteen years old having lunch at the Uchiha's. A normally jovial affair, but today ends differently.

 

Fugaku calmly tells Sasuke that he's not allowed to go out until he finishes his school work—because Sasuke’s become more rebellious lately and feels like he can do whatever he wants—and Sasuke promptly smashes his plate against the wall just beyond his father's head, narrowly missing his right ear.

 

Everyone freezes, air zapping from the room in a startled rush.

 

Mikoto gasps, dropping the large serving dish she's holding. She was coming out of the kitchen just as it happened—her eyes grow round and her face grows as pale as the white walls around them.

 

Itachi chokes on his food, coughing immediately to clear his passageway. Neji flinches quietly in his seat. He turns his head slowly to look at Naruto, face colored with disbelief.

 

Naruto cannot move; he's frozen solid, desperately trying to hide his shock. He's pretty sure that he fails, since everyone else's face surely mirrors his own right now.

 

Fugaku's face doesn't change. He stares at his son, face unreadable. The only noticeable change is his fist clenching loosely on the table it's resting on.

 

“Sasuke,” He begins carefully, brows furrowing.

 

Sasuke blinks in surprise at his own outburst. He looks terrified—his eyes dart back and forth to look at each one of their faces—before it becomes too much for him and he turns tail and runs, retreating from the dining room like the devil's on his heels.

 

Neji and Naruto share a quick look, before Naruto is hurriedly excusing himself from the table so he can rush after him.

 

Neji doesn't move to follow. Instead, he stands to help Mikoto pick up the scattered shards of glass, saying nothing.

 

He finds him near the creek that's closer to Naruto's house. It's been a meeting place for them for a while, so naturally Sasuke would end up there when he's looking for something safe and familiar.

 

Naruto silently takes a seat beside Sasuke on the bank, careful not to touch him. His friend has his legs drawn up and his head rests on his knees. He's shaking slightly, but Naruto pretends he doesn't see.

 

“I don't know why I did that.” Sasuke admits after a while, sniffling. Naruto finally reaches out and takes his hand, offering the comfort of his touch instead of his words. He can’t say much since he doesn't know, either.

 

They do not talk about how angry Sasuke becomes sometimes. How he loses his self-control and acts without thinking. Naruto knows that it's something serious, but he's only thirteen and he loves Sasuke more than anything. What's he supposed to do here?

 

He doesn't know how to help. He only knows how to watch and comfort him in the aftermath. Like now. All he can say is: “I know. Your dad knows you didn't mean for that to happen.”

 

Still, Fugaku's disappointment was palpable. That’s why Sasuke left like he did, hot shame filling his body the same way it does whenever he lets his father down.

 

“When you think you're calm enough, you should go back and apologize.”

 

Neji would be better at this. He'd tell him something meaningful or encouraging, effectively pulling Sasuke out of the black guilt that surroundings him like a cloud. But he's not here—not yet, anyway. He usually follows later, giving Sasuke enough time to truly calm down so they can have a rational conversation. So, it's up to Naruto to try and get him to do the right thing.

 

Sasuke's face screws up in displease but he nods anyway. He looks away, fingers curling in the grass as they watch the clouds pass them by. After more silence, he looks so deeply into Naruto's eyes that it makes him squirm.

 

“I don't know where my brain goes, sometimes.” Sasuke admits quietly, surprising him. “Sometimes I feel like I don't know who I am and someone else is controlling me.”

 

He only says this because they are alone. Otherwise, these feelings don't exist. Naruto knows this, that's why he always tries so hard to listen when they do.

 

“You make me feel real.” He whispers. “Even through the worst of it, I can always hear your voice.”

 

Naruto's heart _thumps_ painfully at that, and he can't look into Sasuke's mournful eyes anymore because it hurts too much. He throws his arms around Sasuke's neck in a bruising hug and isn't surprised when Sasuke grips him back just as hard, shuddering.  

 

That does not bring him joy like he feels it should. He cannot be Sasuke's hero or anchor. Not all the time. That's too much for him to bear but his mouth won't move to tell his friend that. He cannot tell him that, because Sasuke needs a friend right now and God knows what he’ll do if he thinks even Naruto has turned against him.

 

He's going to fail eventually— the sweat pooled between their palms will make him slip one day—and he's not exactly sure why he has these thoughts. Or, he does, but he forces himself not to think of it because Sasuke's shaking in his arms.

 

Neji finds them like that later— like Naruto knew he would—pausing with one foot still raised in the air. He asks with his eyes if he's intruding but Naruto shakes his head, beckoning him over. Neji sighs, dropping down to his knees so he can surroundings them both as best he can.

 

Sasuke melts into this shared embrace without a word.

 

They stay like that for hours.

 

Itachi comes for them at night, face carefully blank. He won’t speak on what’s happened either, even though they all know that they should. When Sasuke won’t look at him, Itachi sighs and doesn’t hesitate to pull him close.

 

“C’mon,” He says softly, his phone lighting their way through the dark like a beacon. “Let’s go home.”

**...**

 

It's Shikamaru's fourteen birthday and they celebrate at the compound.

 

Things have been tense lately with the other clans, so Fugaku wants them all here to ensure their safety.

 

It's not a problem; Sasuke's house is the biggest out of the group and they spend plenty enough time haunting it's halls.

 

They had no set plans for the day, anyway— they are much too cool for balloons or party favors these days, far too wrapped up in the world of the adults to want such childish things.

 

Shikamaru's mother forces him to have a cake. She understands his refusal for streamers and party hats, but she will not budge on the cake. A birthday staple she calls it, and her son **will** have it.

 

(Naruto was always grateful for the mothers. They taught their rough and tough boys how to like the little things, how to feel—just a bit, not too much or Fugaku would notice—they allowed them be kids even when they already felt immortal)

 

Shikamaru doesn't argue because all of their mothers are somewhat scary—

 

(Such a nature comes with the territory)

 

—but he does grumble about it when the boys are alone.

 

“It's really good cake, though.” Kiba says. His words are nearly unintelligible since his mouth is full, and Naruto would laugh at him if he wasn't in the same state.

 

“It is.” Neji concurs. Of course, he eats his slice with a fork instead of with his hands like Naruto and Kiba. Little savages the two of them are, and Neji shakes his head at the icing covering Naruto's fingers. His friend offers him a napkin but Naruto’s just fine cleaning them off with his spit.

 

“Did you make a wish?” Sasuke asks suddenly, looking up from his own empty plate to regard Shikamaru.

 

Oddly, he's always the most into festivities like these. Or not, since Sasuke _loves_ parties, even though he never says so.

 

Naruto bites down a smile, hiding it behind another large bite of cake.

 

Shikamaru's face colors at that and he looks away. “I didn't need to; I already have everything I want.” He mumbles quietly.

 

He hazards a look at them all to see if they understand his meaning, visibly happy when no one immediately mocks him for it.

 

Kiba thumps his friend's back encouragingly, Neji nods sagely in understanding, Naruto offers a warm grin that he's happy Shikamaru returns, while Sasuke smirks with a soft roll of his eyes.

 

“Aww,” Choji coos softly. They are assholes to each other sometimes, but never when it counts. “I love you too, man.”

 

“Shut up.” Shikamaru grumbles, but his tone is light all the same.

 

“You should still wish for something,” Sasuke says seriously, propping his head up on a loose fist. “You don't have to tell us what it is.”

 

“Well, it won't come true if he does,” Naruto adds. That's what he's already heard. “Those are the rules.”

 

Sasuke waves him off, addressing Shikamaru directly when he says: “Whatever you guys want, you'll have. I'll make sure to get it for you,”

 

Shikamaru blinks to hide his surprise. He can't help but ask: “Really?” In a strangely hopeful tone because Sasuke's never so open with his affections. Their friend must be caught up in the nature of the day to promise them the world so easily.

 

Sasuke scoffs, almost sounding offended. “Of course. I'll make it happen no matter what.” He says it with such assurance, such a sense of finality that they can't help but believe him.

 

Shikamaru ducks his head, smiling softly, only for it to drop when he realizes: “I don't have any candles to blow out, though."

 

Neji clears his throat, fidgeting when everyone turns to look at him. He's not looking any of them in the eye when he pulls out two candles shaped like a one and a four.

 

“It never hurts to be prepared.” He says casually with an unconvincing shrug.  Everyone raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. Kiba chuckles good-naturedly, producing a lighter so they can light the candles.

 

Naruto's already cut a slice to hand to Shikamaru, gently pressing the numbers down into the fluffy white icing. Shikamaru takes it with grateful nod, asking for a fork since he's not a heathen, either.

 

“Let me guess,” Shikamaru says dryly, even though his face is bright with love. “Even though I said no presents, you guys all got me something, didn't you?”

 

The lot of them freeze, caught, descending into loud laughter when they all pull crudely wrapped presents from behind their backs.

 

“We aren't singing.” Shikamaru says in warning, looking up from the dancing flames.

 

“Yes, we are.” Sasuke and Naruto say in unison, making them all laugh again.

 

“Alright!” Kiba chirps like he's really getting into it. They all are, even if they don't say. Their actions do enough of the talking. Sometimes, it is nice to have a little normalcy. They can worry about tomorrow when it comes. “All together, now!”

* * *

 

**C.**

 

Naruto wakes with tears in his eyes, licking his painfully dry lips as he blinks away the sleep.

 

His body feels like one big bruise, now—tight and aching. He can barely shift without wanting to scream.

 

It's not early morning, like he expects. The sunrays on the opposite wall  tell him that it's closer to noon. He slept more peacefully than he thought he would, even and uninterrupted. That's strange, since he thought his tormentors would be back sooner rather than later.

 

This could be psychological warfare, though. Either their aim is to lull him into a false sense of security or they want him to utterly panic in their absence and dread their return. Neither will work on him and they probably know that.

 

Still, why haven't they been back yet?

 

He'd rather get this over with as quickly as possible. Last night's dreams have his mind all over the place. His heart and head are a mess. There's so much he wants to say to his friends—if that's what they are at this point. Brothers, really. Family— but he doubts he'll get the chance. There’s so much he wants to say to Sasuke and Neji both but it's far too late for that.

 

He'd convinced himself that there were no good times—or, there were, but they were not enough to outweigh the bad. That isn't true, though. It never was and he cannot pretend anymore.

 

Naruto is who he is because of this place—or maybe despite it— he survived so long because of who he grew up with, who he loved and who loves him in return. He is his father's son— just as he is Fugaku's and Hizashi's. He is still that boy in the orange yutaka, looking up at the lantern lights shaped like fireballs in the sky. He thought himself lost, and yet he found his way home one way or another.

 

He is still hurt and bitter, but if given the chance he would try to truly work things out with the people who made him whole for so long. He is whole by himself, now, but he misses them all the same.

 

Such a stupid, obvious revelation to come to while strapped to a table, but such is life.  

 

Naruto drifts back into a fitful sleep when no one appears, eyes snapping open when he hears a door slam loudly.

 

It's darker than he expects, closer to early evening.

 

How long has be been asleep?

 

He starts, making eye contact with Sakon as he stumbles inside. The man's eyes are wild and darting— he's obviously hopped up on something, which will only make this worse. Sakon sneers when his eyes land on Naruto and he marches forward with purpose, raising a fist with no warning and smashing it into Naruto's defenseless cheek.

 

Naruto grunts, working his jaw to make sure he still can. There's blood in his mouth again and he shouldn't be as used to that as he is.

 

“This is your fault, fucker!” Sakon shouts in his face, words slightly slurring. Ukon appears behind him, tugging his brother's arm to pull him away. “Jirobo's dead because of _you!”_

 

What?

 

“Dead?” Naruto can't help but echo. How? It's been less than a day! What the hell is happening out there?

 

“Shut up!” Sakon yells, nearly foaming at the mouth. He's angry, but Naruto can see a great sadness there. Part of him feels bad for the man even though he shouldn't. Even if they're Yakushi and he _hates_ them, losing a friend is terrible and he doesn't wish that on anyone.

 

“Your stupid friends are going crazy out there! They fucking killed him while he wasn't even doing anything! Fuck!” He throws his hands up in frustration, shaking off Ukon who's still trying to hold him back. “All this cause you're still the goddamn favorite!”

 

So, Naruto was right. Sasuke's on the warpath from the sound of it. He can't exactly blame him. He’s also not so foolish to think that Sasuke's the only one losing his shit right now. There are plenty of people who will go to bat for him, and he has no way to call them off, trapped as he is.

 

Still, this isn't good. The Uchiha's aren't the type to take prisoners. They're taking names and it'll only get worse the longer Naruto's gone.

 

“Sakon…” Ukon says, sounding worried. He tries to get his brother to look at him so he can calm him down, but Sakon's not having it.

 

“No!” He nearly screams, at his wit's end. “Fuck this shit!”

 

He turns to look Naruto, deflating like an old balloon. He looks so deathly calm in the next moment that goosebump erupt on Naruto's skin.

 

“Get him up.” He commands slowly. He pulls his gun from his waistband and point it right in Naruto's face. “If you struggle, I'll shoot you. You got that? I'll unload this whole fucking clip into you, so you better stay still.”

 

Naruto nods slowly, not able to do much else. Ukon's mouth twists uncomfortably, but he moves to untie Naruto regardless. He pauses briefly once Naruto's sitting up—clearly the more merciful out of the two—because he chooses to tie Naruto's forearms back together instead of his hands, mindful of his broken wrist.

 

“Where are we going?” Ukon asks. Sakon ignores him, pulling Naruto off the table by his hair to take him outside.

 

Naruto stumbles on weak legs, each step absolute agony as they force him to move. He's thrown into the backseat of a car, grunting as his shoulder hits the left rear door.

 

“Fucking _answer_ me, Sakon!” Ukon nearly growls as he climbs into the passenger's seat. “Where are we going?”

 

“I'm ending it.” Sakon replies without looking at him. He looks into Naruto's eyes in the rearview mirror instead, face black like a storm. Naruto's heart drops; it settles firmly in his stomach like the boulder he thinks he is, content to stay there.

 

Ukon shakes his head firmly while Sakon starts the car. “But Kabuto said—”

 

“I don't give a shit what Kabuto said.” Sakon spits. “Things changed. I'm fucking ending it, so either you can come with me or you can get the hell out!”

 

Ukon stares at him, speechless for moment. He swallows heavily before strapping his seatbelt on and settling into his seat with a huff. Sakon nods briefly, smiling with no teeth, before pulling off.

 

Well, that settles that.

 

Naruto knows where they are going. The Yakushi are famous for dumping bodies on a long stretch of road that the other clans call the Dark Mile. A catchy name, one that Naruto secretly thought  was cool in this youth. It's on the outskirts of town and poorly lit, making it perfect for illicit activities in the dead of night.

 

It's both the longest and shortest drive of Naruto's life. His last, and the thought nearly sends him into a panic. He manages to stay calm, somehow, grim acceptance easing into his bones. He feels loose and floating. Barely here. He does not know if he should look at the passing houses and neon signs since he'll never get the chance again, or the sky and stars, since he'll soon be among them.

 

He chooses the stars—a primal fear grips him, making his heart beat wildly in his chest. He's never been so sure of the end or so close to it, and he wills himself not to sob and beg. It will do him no good now, but he prays to God and hopes he's heard. He wishes for a better swan song but isn't so sure if he deserves it.

 

Sakon pulls over near a wide-open field, shutting the car off. The sound of the engine cutting is loud to Naruto's ears, especially since the ride has been so quiet. He closes his eyes and sighs heavily.

 

The twins share a look—eyes bright with something Naruto doesn't understand—before they're both exiting the car at the same time, doors shutting with a resounding _slam_.

 

Sakon opens the rear door and Naruto all but falls out of it. He gasps as he hits the gravelly road, tiny bits of rock aggravating his wounds. Tears threaten to come but he wills them down.

 

Ukon comes from the other side of the car, pointing his gun at Naruto while Sakon goes to rummage around in the trunk. He wishes one of them would say anything—scream at him, curse his name, laugh like they did before—but they are so quiet that it scares him.

 

This is business, Naruto reminds himself. Definitely personal for them, but ultimately business. They'll do what must because that's all that they know. He's not sure if he's angry at them for that. He's not sure if he feeling much emotion at all, besides fear.

 

Ukon forces him onto his knees, not meeting his eyes. Naruto can feel the grass underneath him, the air against his face, he can hear the call of night birds as they sit in the twisted, gangly trees—and he's at least grateful that he's experiencing such things before he dies. That means something to him, something big that he can’t explain, but it’s not like the twins would want to hear it even if he tried.

 

Sakon comes back, looking at Naruto with cold eyes. He raises his arm and pours the gasoline he's holding over Naruto's head. It soaks into his clothes and plasters his hair down against his face. The peace Naruto tried to make with himself evaporates instantly; pure, unfiltered terror seized him by the throat and refuses to let go.

 

“No,” He hears himself saying. His voice sounds small and shaken but he doesn't care.

 

Not like this.

 

 _Anything_ but this.

 

“ _Please no—_ ”

 

“Any last words?” Ukon offers, not unkindly, effectively cutting off his pleading prayer.

 

“No, he gets nothing.” Sakon says without blinking, digging in his pocket for a lighter. Then, quieter—filled to the brim with raw emotion—he says: “This is for Suigetsu.”

 

Naruto always knew he’d pay for all his mistakes one way or another. He can’t blame anyone but himself for this. He never should have worked with Kabuto. He never should have let Haku come here alone. He should have let Neji and Sasuke back him up when their help was so freely offered. Such small things, stitched together like a highlight reel in his last moments. He’s not exactly impressed with it.

 

But is this what he deserves for being an idiot? Maybe, maybe not.

 

He has no more use for questions, anyway. There's plenty that he'll never have the answer to.

 

Is he really okay with that?

 

(Shit, there he goes again!)

 

Naruto shuts his eyes. He doesn't want to see the flame that's going to engulf him in mere moments. He refuses to let that be the last thing he sees. He'll make do with the blackness behind his lids.  

 

He finds his eyes snapping open a few moments later, startled by an unexpected noise. A car honks in the distance—urgently and continuously, as if it's trying to get someone's attention.

 

Sakon curses, turning around to see who's coming. The headlights of the approaching car are on the brightest setting, making all three of them squint.

 

Ukon raises his hand to shield his eyes. He sends a near-panicked look to his brother but Sakon's not looking at him. He's too busy watching the car swerve over to the road's shoulder, it's inhabitants hoping out before the car is fully in park.

 

Naruto can't help the small gasp, the small sigh of relief that leaves him when he sees Asuma standing in front of him—his gun is already drawn and he's advancing with his badge held high, barking: “Drop your weapons and get down on the ground, now!”

 

Jiraiya hops out of the passenger side door, his trusty shotgun on display and he’s got it pointed square at Ukon's head. Naruto can't help but blink stupidly in surprise.

 

That's the last person he expected to be with Asuma right now but he's not complaining. The old man gives him a small, reassuring smile even though he looks haunted. Of course he does; Naruto's in a bad state and if they were even a second later, it would have been worse.

 

The last person out of the car shocks him the most. Iruka Umino steps out, looking older than he remembers. The long scar across his nose still churns Naruto's gut after all this time, but he's a welcome face right now, too.

 

The Umino used to be a smaller, powerful family like the Uzumaki—before Orochimaru ruined everything. Iruka is one of the last of his kind, like him. He did not get away without some injury, though, without horrors and phantom pain that keeps him up at night. Naruto doesn't know why he's here, though. The older man left the life behind once his family was wiped out.

 

Iruka sees Naruto's confused look and he smiles warmly, but he says nothing.

 

Jiraiya answers for him. The old man steps forward, saying: “It's war, kid. We've all been pulled out of retirement.” Then, quieter, he adds: “It's not your fault; we knew this was coming eventually.”

 

He remembers Jiraiya saying something similar back at the bar. That day feels so long ago, now. If he’s honest, his time back in Konoha feels like a dream. He expects to wake up tomorrow in his bed back home, barely remembering the details.

 

Or, maybe only this part is a dream. He’s going to come to in the garage to face more torture. There’s no way that someone’s come to save him—not at the perfect moment. His luck has never been _that_ good. But it seems to be true, because no matter how many times Naruto blinks, the three of them are still standing in front of him.

 

Sakon and Ukon see that they are outnumbered. They are reckless and stupid at the best of times, but know better than to tests these odds. They share a look—short and fleeting, but it speaks volumes—before slowly lowering their guns to the ground, their bodies soon following.

 

Asuma nods at their cooperation. “Now, put your hands on your heads.” He says in his patented Cop Voice ™️.

 

Naruto hasn't heard it in so long that it almost makes him laugh, but not quite. He's still too shaken and in quite a bit of pain. His heart hasn't stopped beating wildly so he can't call himself calm.

 

“Can you stand?”  Asuma asks him. Naruto shakes his head, legs frozen due to pain and paralyzing fear. Iruka steps forward, lifting him under his arms like a baby. Naruto stumbles when his feet are beneath him, nearly crying out when he thinks he's going to to fall. Iruka catches him easily and settles Naruto on his shoulder in a almost hug.

 

“I have you,” He says softly. Naruto can't help the way his eyes fill with tears at that. He stares over Iruka's shoulder to look at the empty stretch of road beyond them.

 

“What are we going to do with them?” Jiraiya asks. Asuma doesn’t answer, looking around instead to make sure no other cars are coming down the road. There aren’t any, because the people of the town know better than to drive through here at night, fearful of what they might stumble across.

 

Naruto cannot see what passes over Asuma’s face, but Iruka and Jiraiya can. Jiraiya sighs, long and tired like the years have been long. They have—for all of them, in more ways than one.

 

Iruka cups the back of Naruto’s head, keeping him turned away. “Don't look.” He whispers, and Naruto's brows furrow in confusion before he hears the first shot. It startles him and he gasps without meaning to, trying to pull away and turn around but Iruka won't let him.

 

Three more shots sound off behind him in rapid succession, booming loud in the darkness.

 

And then, silence.

 

It echoes louder than the shots ever could.

 

No one says a word and Naruto doesn't have to look to know that the twins are dead. He's not sure if he's weeping for them, for himself, for them all or for this city, but he weeps. Iruka pats him on the back and lets him cry, swaying them back and forth for comfort.

 

Asuma takes the gasoline canister and pours it on the bodies, striking a match with lightning quickness and throwing it where they lay. Naruto's finally allowed to turn around, watching the flames climb high into the sky like a beacon.

 

“Let’s go,” Asuma says, leaving no room for anyone to comment on what just happened. He stares at Naruto, eyes empty as the gathering shadows as he asks: “What did you see?”

 

Naruto knows what he truly means. What he's asking. No one ever said that Asuma was a _good_ cop, so there’s that. His last name isn’t Sarutobi for nothing.

 

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, feeling lightheaded and faint as he leans on Iruka for support.

 

“Nothing.” He whispers softly, voice so choked that the words barely come.

 

If anyone asks, that's what he'll answer. “Nothing.”

 


	9. Nine.

 

* * *

 

**Nine.**

“Unbody me—I’m tired—and get me home.”

 

—Ralph Hodgson,

_The Moor_

* * *

 

**A.**

 

His adrenaline is all but gone once they're on the road.

 

Dried up, no more left. Once his heart stops threatening to beat out of his chest he collapses, limp and boneless, on backseat.

 

That seems to alarm the others, for _some_ reason.

 

Asuma drives like a madman, weaving in and out of traffic expertly. He turns on his siren just long enough to speed through a few red lights before shutting it off again. He keeps sending concerned looks to Naruto in the rearview mirror, demanding that Iruka keep him conscious in a near-frantic tone that’s wildly foreign coming out his mouth.

 

Iruka does his best; Naruto can’t help how he's fluttering in and out of consciousness as he lays on the older man’s shoulder, only to be woken up moments later by Iruka’s gentle yet insistent shaking.

 

“ _Naruto_ ,” Iruka says urgently, hard edge in his voice that’s only slightly tinged with panic. “ _Please_ stay awake.”

 

Naruto wants to tell him to fuck off and let him sleep, but he understands their worry. It’s usually not a good sign when the injured party can’t keep their eyes open, right?

 

“Yeah, we got him,” Jiraiya says solemnly, speaking to someone on his phone. He turns bodily in his seat so he can look at Naruto over the console. Naruto can’t hear what the other person says, but Jiraiya's face screws up and he shakes his head before facing forward. “It’s...not good. Make sure Tsunade’s ready to go when we pull up. Kid’s lost a lot of blood.”

 

Naruto blinks when hearing Tsunade’s name, suddenly more alert. It’s been a long time since he’s seen the Uchiha’s personal doctor, even longer since he’s been treated by her. He’ll be in good hands, then.

 

He wishes their reunion wouldn't be so urgent and dramatic as this, but at least he gets to see her.

 

It should take them longer to get back into Uchiha territory, but Asuma manages to pull up in the familiar driveway in less than fifteen minutes.

 

There are blurry figures standing restless on the porch when they arrive. Naruto can’t quite tell who they are from this distance. The fuzzy outlines set off into a near-sprint towards the car before Asuma can even finish parking.

 

Naruto _might_ feel more embarrassed about being carried inside the compound like a princess if he wasn't halfway to dreamland. Or death, maybe. It’s a hard call to make. All he knows is that the back of his eyelids are _very_ appealing at the moment and he wants to see what they have to offer.

 

He’s carried by Kisame no less—but the big man's usual playfulness and mocking tone is absent when he throws open the car door.

 

He takes one look at Naruto sprawled across the backseat before he can't stop himself from whispering a shocked-sounding: “Fuck.” and hesitantly trying to find a place to hold him that isn't covered in cuts and bruises.

 

There are none, but Naruto appreciates the effort.

 

“Get him inside,” Kakashi barks, brows furrowing when he sees the state Naruto’s in. Naruto tries to give him a reassuring smile—he’s fine, really. Or, he will be, given time. There’s no need for all this excitement—but it only comes off like a pained grimace. It makes Kakashi frown harder; his fist clenches tightly by his side and his eyes fill with something dark and dangerous.

 

Naruto sighs.

 

Well, so much for that.

 

Kisame hoists him up in one quick motion. Naruto can’t help the pained hiss that escapes from his teeth, grunting when his bare skin scapes against the front of the big man’s shirt.

 

“Shit,” Kisame mumbles. “Sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Naruto mutters, shrugging with one shoulder. He barely has the strength to do that, let alone keep his head up. He settles into the other man’s arms as best he can, keeping his broken wrist close to his chest so it won’t dangle in the wind.

 

“We’ve gotta head back out,” Asuma informs them regretfully. “There’s still a lot of shit going down in the city and the boys need backup.” He gently cards his fingers through Naruto’s hair, sighing heavily, eyes going cloudy and distant for a moment.

 

Naruto isn’t sure where his mind goes—somewhere long gone and far off, probably when Naruto came up to his knees and grinned toothily at him like the little shit he was. It’s gone from one second to another, then he’s looking up and addressing Kisame when he says—eyes deep and piercing, voice quiet but rough like he’s daring Kisame to argue: “Keep me updated, alright?”

 

Kisame nods dutifully, fingers subtly curling tighter to keep his grip on Naruto. He stands stiff and straight, only slightly intimidated, and Naruto would find that funny in any other situation. Asuma’s just...like that. Even the biggest men can’t help their subtle flinch when meeting his eyes.

 

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Iruka mutters softly, gently brushing his fingers over Naruto’s cheek. It looks like it takes all his power to tear himself away, his lip catching between his teeth in worry.

 

Jiraiya ruffles his hair when it’s his turn, saying: “I’ll treat you to all the ramen you want after this is over, okay?” And Naruto finally manages a grin at that, since he plans to hold him to it.

 

He’s so lucky, to have friends like these. He'll make sure to properly thank them all later.

 

Naruto vaguely registers Kotetsu and Izumo standing ready by the door to usher them inside. When Kisame bounds up the steps with Naruto in his arms, their carefully curated stone faces drop for the briefest of moments—something like shock and horror passing over them like a shadow—before they school their faces back into blank masks.

 

It’s only then that Naruto realizes how bad he must look, what terrible state he’s in, because all four of them have seen some shit in their day. Kakashi isn’t the type of lose face and neither are the others,  so for all of them to react so strongly means—

 

Well, he’s not exactly sure what it means. Or, he does: maybe they all care a little more than they say they do. Maybe. Maybe it never gets easier to see someone you’ve known for so long brutally beaten and battered. So many maybes, but—

 

He won't ask and they won't offer, so he'll just pretend he didn't see.

 

(He's done enough of that for a long, long time. No point in changing it now.)

 

There’s muffled shouting as they walk inside the foyer, coming from the direction of the living room. Naruto raises an eyebrow, looking up to Kisame is question.

 

Kisame sighs, informing him that: “She’s been at it for hours. Nobody’s been able to calm her down.”

 

Naruto doesn’t have to ask who “she” is; his mother is the only person who’s able to scream and shout for such a long time without getting tired. It’s a special skill, one he’s almost disappointed that he didn’t inherit.

 

Still, he has no clue who's her chosen victim at the moment. Asuma said that the boys are still out terrorizing the town so it wouldn't be any of them.

 

Kushina never raises her voice at Mikoto for any reason, strangely enough. Those two disagree about plenty but Mikoto's way too nice to incur her wrath.

 

So, that only leaves—

 

“—and they burned my fucking house down, Fugaku!” Kushina yells into Fugaku’s face, voice tinged with fierce anger and haunted by the threat of tears.

 

Fugaku doesn’t move, face blank, standing stock still while Naruto’s mother rages at him. His hands are clasped behind his back and he watches Kushina like one watches a loose dog: carefully, warily, mindful of its bark and bite.

 

Mikoto hovers nearby, looking between her friend and husband, nervously fidgeting but far too wise to get in the middle of it.

 

“After they took my son, my _only_ son and I can’t figure out why you’re allowing this to go on! The one _fucking_ time I ask you to be the monster you are and instead you choose to sit here with your goddamn thumb up your ass, while _your_ sons are—”

 

“Kushina,” Minato says firmly, physically holding her back as gently as he can. He’s always been the only one able to touch her when she gets like this. The only one brave enough to risk losing a finger or two when she snaps and fights like the badger she is. “That’s enough. This isn’t helping.”

 

His father must know that his words are pointless but he’s going to try anyway. Diplomatic as he is, he’s going to try anyway.

 

Wait a minute—

 

Naruto blinks—shocked first by seeing the last person he expected to step foot back in Konoha, then hit with the realization of his mother’s words. His father is **_here_**? His **_house_** was burned down?!?

 

His brain isn’t equipped to handle this many surprises at once, hazy and addled as it is. He doesn’t have time to rejoice in seeing his father’s face or mourn the loss of his childhood home before his mother gets fired up again.

 

“I don’t give a **_fuck_ ** if this is helping!” Kushina cries, shaking out of Minato’s hold. She points an accusing finger in Fugaku’s face, nearly growling when she says:  “All I care about is—”

 

“Mom.” Naruto interjects, voice little more than a raspy whisper. Four sets of eyes swing to him, startled, since none of them realized they weren’t alone.

 

“Oh,” Kushina breathes, gasping softly. She would have crumbled to the floor if Minato hadn’t been there to catch her, unmeasurable relief robbing her of her strength.

 

Her relief is short-lived once she takes a good look at him. The tears she’s been holding in for days finally spill out, staining the floor as she stumbles forward towards him. Her hand flies to her mouth in horror and her voice croaks with garbled words.

 

Naruto sees, at the same time, how his father’s eyes widen, hears the rush of breath as he curses colorfully and swallows heavily. He sees the tears that stain Mikoto’s face, too, the twitch of Fugaku’s fingers like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Fugaku’s jaw clinches and he closes his eyes, righteous anger twisting his features into something ugly.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kushina says mournfully, hands outstretched but not quite reaching. Like Kisame, she doesn’t know where to touch him that won’t bring him more pain. She settles on his face, cupping his scarred cheeks since that’s—ironically, if you ask him—the only place where he isn’t hurt. “Look what they did to you.”

 

Naruto covers her hand with his own, closing his eyes at the warmth of her touch. “I’m okay,” He tries weakly, but no one here believes him.

 

It's fine. He doesn't believe himself, either. He's just had to tell himself that everything's peachy to avoid a complete and utter breakdown. He can't bear to stop now cause he fears he'll sink and drown.

 

(The water's coming in fast, though. That much is certain.)

 

Minato is right on Kushina’s heels, rushing forward once his shock stops rooting him to the spot. Kushina leans into him with a heavy sigh and Minato doesn’t hesitate to curl a protective arm around her. Naruto wishes it was the right time to tease them about that, but he’s sure they wouldn’t appreciate it at the moment.

 

Minato’s face contorts, transforming into something Naruto doesn’t recognize for a split second. Something frightening, an expression that he only remembers seeing on the worse days, years ago. It happens so quickly that Naruto’s almost sure he imagined it, until his father speaks up, voice devoid of emotion when he asks: “Why do you smell like gas?”

 

Kushina looks to Minato’s face, then back to Naruto, gasping when she realizes what that means.

 

There’s a charged pause that sweeps the room—the sound of the clock  _ticking_ steadily is the only noise to be heard. Naruto can’t fix his mouth to move, can’t force the words to form to confirm what they already know.

 

No one gets the chance to say anything else before Tsunade’s rushing in from the hall.

 

“Put him down, already.” She barks to Kisame, giving him a pointed look. “He's dripping all over the floor.”

 

Kisame places him down as gently as he can on the couch, careful not to bump his wrist. Naruto nods at him, smiling weakly to show his appreciation. Kisame only nods, looking away from him like the sight burns.  

 

It just might; they've never been nice to each other, but Naruto knows that Kisame's fond of him regardless. The big man's obviously choking on rage just like Kakashi was—just like Asuma and Kotetsu and Iruka and Izumo and—

 

So he's more than happy to escape the room for a moment when Tsunade asks for her medical bag that's in the kitchen. He moves faster than Naruto's ever seen him move, quieter than he's ever heard him be. It's downright unnerving.

 

Tsunade then turns to Mikoto, easily taking command since she knows no one will argue with her at a time like this.  “I hate to fuck up a white couch, but I need to treat him _now_ ; I'm not waiting until we get upstairs.”

 

Mikoto shakes her head sharply in reply. “I don’t care.” She says firmly. “Use whatever you need.”

 

Kushina and Minato immediately flank Naruto as he's set down, standing over him protectively like some unseen treat is going to burst through the door.

 

“You have to let me help him, Kushina,” Tsunade says carefully, eyes swinging between his parents but addressing her directly. “I understand your concern, and I’m not saying you have to leave, but I do need some elbow room.”

 

Minato nods slowly, gently tugging on Kushina’s arm so she’ll step back. His mother struggles, stubbornly trying to stay by his side.

 

“ _Mom,_ ” Naruto grunts, looking at her sharply.

 

“Fine, fine!” She snaps before thinking better of it, voice softening when she says: “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

 

He nods, squeezing her hand in comfort. There’s none to be found for any of them, but he’s sure she appreciates it.

 

A thought strikes Naruto before everyone leaves and he’s clearing his throat before he can stop himself, trying to get Fugaku’s attention as he slowly exits, eyes still glued to Naruto like he'll disappear if he looks away.

 

“Fugaku-san,” Naruto calls hoarsely, struggling to sit up so he can stare into the other man’s eyes. Moving burns like hellfire but he’s determined. Tsunade pushes him back down, mouth ticking in frustration and rolling her eyes forcefully like he’s an idiot. He can’t exactly refute that at the moment.

 

His voice doesn't waiver, doesn’t stutter when he says: “I didn’t break.”

 

Naruto _needs_ him to know. Not because of some misplaced sense of pride, not for a pat on the head. At least, he doesn’t think it’s because of that; He just...needs him to know, or he’ll never stop thinking about it and it will drive him crazy.

 

Yeah, that’s why.

 

Fugaku blinks at him—a strange mixture of tenderness, anguish, and something else that Naruto can’t hope to name paints his face like the sky before a storm. His lips part but no sound emerges.

 

Finally he says, voice filled with a delicately controlled rage that causes his words to _shake:_

 

 _“_ I know. I never thought otherwise.”

 

Fugaku sighs heavily, the whole world that rests on his shoulders causing his head to hang. “But we’ll worry about all that in the morning.”

 

Naruto nods and lies back on the couch, staring at the white ceiling as Tsunade gets to work. She regards him silently when the others depart, a deep frown etched on her face.

 

“What?” He asks her, wary of the look she’s giving him.

 

She smiles ruefully, shaking her head. “Nothing,” She begins, but amends immediately after. “That devotion of yours never fails to piss me off. I always thought that it might get you killed one day,” She sighs, looking through her medical bag for antiseptic. “I wasn’t exactly wrong.”

 

He can't, for the life of him, come up with a response, but it’s not like she expected one.

* * *

**B.**

The next time Naruto wakes he keeps his eyes half-closed, vaguely aware that he’s not alone.

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep; somehow, he was thoroughly treated and moved into one of the guest rooms without stirring. The EKG that’s softly _beeping_ near his head is what rouses him from his slumber, as well as the quiet rumble of voices coming from somewhere in the room.

 

His wrist lays in a cast, blissfully set and only slightly throbbing. A blessing, since the last  time he caught sight of it he nearly threw up at how ugly and swollen it was. His nose isn’t lying flat against his cheek anymore—he hopes it won’t be forever crooked when the bandage finally comes off.

 

His body is expertly wrapped in bandages; so many of them overlap each other than he looks like a shitty Halloween costume. Still, it's a better view than bloody gashes and angry welts. Tsunade's handiwork never fails to impress him.

 

She's nothing if not thorough.

 

That's why he's not surprised at the IV sticking out of his arm—pumping _glorious_ pain medicine into his weightless body— or any of the medical grade equipment he’s hooked up to.

 

(People like them don’t go to hospitals. Too many questions, too many watchful eyes and suspicious nurses that have the nasty habit of calling the police when shifty looking men arrive on their doorstep with unexplained bullet wounds. Tsunade does just fine on her own since she’s paid handsomely to keep things like this quiet.)

 

Minato’s sitting by his bedside, slumped in his seat like he’s been sitting in it for hours. He probably has, since Naruto has no idea how much time has passed. Fugaku stands behind him, hand placed on the back of Minato’s chair. He’d usually have it on his old friend’s shoulder in a show of support but it’s hard to say if his touch would be welcome.

 

They don’t speak for a long time—so long that Naruto almost pretends to wake up to break the quiet. He hates long silences, hates even more that people who used to be so close have this awkward air surrounding them like shroud. Through his narrowed eyes, Naruto sees Fugaku fidget and Minato sigh, running a tired hand over his face.

 

His father looks older—more worn, sad, and stressed out than he ever remembers seeing him. Of course he looks that way: he must have rushed here at Kushina’s request, feelings be damned, thinking the worst while Naruto was missing. Nearly two decades since he’s stepped foot on this cursed soil, but here he is. In _this_ house again, because somehow all that's left of the Uzumaki end up here, one way or another.

 

Naruto can’t imagine how he feels right now, what must be going through his head, but he doesn’t have to wonder long since Fugaku finally finds his voice again, after ages.

 

“Forgive me,” Fugaku says, fingers tightening on the chair’s back. He looks wan and haunted, tired from more than just the day. “I understand if you’re angry. I swore to you that I’d protect him, but I’ve failed at that.” Then quieter he mutters, voice full of something like self-loathing and regret: “ _Again_.”

 

Naruto makes sure to stay very still and keep his breath even. He’s sure that he’s not supposed to hear this. If he was awake, these feelings wouldn’t exist. So, he’ll pretend to sleep for a little while longer.

 

Minato takes a moment before he replies, turning bodily in his seat to regard Fugaku. “If this is your fault, it’s mine, too.” Minato says, shaking his head. He faces forward, staring absently as he smooths down Naruto’s hair, twisting the locks so much like his own between his fingers.

 

“I let him come back here by himself and I knew better. I knew this wouldn’t end well but never tried to convince him otherwise. He’s just as stubborn as Kushina, you know? Worse, sometimes.”

 

“He gets that from you.” Fugaku mumbles softly. He sounds so achingly fond that Naruto's heart hurts.

 

They both chuckle at that, eyes going distant with memories. Fugaku risks placing a comforting hand on Minato’s shoulder, hovering hesitantly before going for it, eyes bright and full when he’s not rejected. Minato sighs again, tilting his head back so it rests on Fugaku’s torso and closing his eyes.

 

They fall back into silence, just taking in each other’s presence. It’s a long time before either speaks again.

 

When Minato slowly opens his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, they’re sharp and narrowed.

 

“I’d usually try to convince you not to go down this road,” He says seriously, lowering his gaze to look into his friend’s eyes. Fugaku’s inhale is audible, but he doesn’t interrupt. “But I think this has gone on long enough, don’t you agree?”

 

Fugaku's eyes are as black as the night sky when he says: “I do.”

 

“First, they took my friends,” Minato continues like he hadn’t heard him. “Then the house that I helped build—almost Kushina along with it.  Now, it’s my son.” His fists clench in his lap, body taut like he wants to hit something. Or, _someone._ “You’ve done everything you could to avoid all out war, but no more.”

 

Then quieter, in a voice that shakes Naruto to his core, his father says: “They can’t have anything else.”

 

“I’ll end it.” Fugaku says fiercely, fingers nearly bruising where they hold Minato. He stands up straighter like a weight has been lifted off of him. Naruto can’t help but wonder how much of Fugaku’s faithful restraint was born purely to appease his friend.

 

He won’t ask, but a question like that can be easily answered anyway. Sasuke swore the same for him. Those Uchiha’s—ravenous hellhounds that they are, but still devoted to one master.  

 

“I know I ask for too much, but—”

 

“I’ll stay to see this through, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Minato replies, ever the mind reader. Fugaku’s relief is palpable, written all over his face since there’s no one around to hide it from.  “Naruto has to recover before I can take him home and I wouldn’t dare leave Kushina alone right now.”

 

“Alright.” Fugaku says slowly, taller and scarier than he remembers. “I’ll start making the preparations.”

 

 _For what?_ Naruto wants to ask. Aren’t the others already on the warpath out there? What more does Fugaku plan to do, now that he’s been set free from his self-imposed shackles? Naruto’s seen him in action enough to know that this won’t be pretty, but his heart _thumps_ at the thought of Fugaku going all out.

 

He’s equal parts excited and apprehensive, surprised that the heart monitor doesn't give him away with how hard his heart is beating.  

 

What changes when Fugaku’s on the frontlines instead of behind the scenes?

 

He can’t ask, since he’s supposed to be asleep. He can’t, because his father already knows and smiles dangerously at the implication. Something passes between them that Naruto has no dominion over. Something he doesn't fully understand, something that honest to God scares him.

 

Just as he has his silent speech with Neji, just like the threads that inexplicably tie him to Sasuke, his father and Fugaku have years and years of mutual understanding. He has no hope of untangling that mess and won't be bothered to try.

 

Minato’s voice drops lower when he speaks next. He places his hand over Fugaku’s and doesn’t look away, doesn’t waiver when he says: “I want his head, Fugaku.”

 

Fugaku doesn’t hesitate to reply with a serious, foreboding: “You’ll have it.” like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “That’s all that will be left, anway.”

 

Minato chuckles into his hand, mindful of the noise since he still thinks Naruto is resting. His grin is positively predatory when he says: “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

**...**

 

He wakes again in the morning, surrounded.

 

Naruto yawns, jaw cracking in two places as he surveys the room:

 

Sasuke’s half-slumped in a chair beside his bed, arms folded firmly across his chest. His brow is still furrowed, even in sleep. Neji rests on a propped fist on Naruto’s other side, hair loose and falling in his face.

 

Choji’s got the only other chair in the room—the only one smart enough to get a pillow so his neck won’t have a painful crick when he wakes. Shikamaru’s taken the cramped windowsill, long legs bunched up so his head can rest upon them. Kiba’s sprawled out on the floor with a comically short blanket—he must have lost when everyone decided where their vigil would be for the night, from the looks of it.

 

Naruto chuckles at the sight, heart close to bursting. He stares at each one of them for far too long, committing everything about them to memory.

 

That's why he notices that Sasuke’s knuckles are bruised and raw while Neji’s got blood staining his collar that probably isn’t his own. The others fair no better— clothes torn, lips split, hair disheveled like it’s been pulled one too many times—but Naruto’s too happy to see them to worry about that.

 

He’d truly thought he’d never get the chance again.

 

(It’s so good to be wrong, sometimes.)

 

Neji stirs first; waking slowly then all at once when he realizes that Naruto’s awake. The other man breathes deeply like he hasn’t done it in days, lips quivering around an almost dreamy sigh. They stare at each other for eons—until Neji smiles brilliantly, gaze warm and alight. It’s nearly too much for Naruto, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

 

He manages to return the smile, reaching out to take Neji's offered hand. His voice doesn’t want to come—too caught on poorly disguised sobs and whispered prayers. Somehow, he manages a shaky: “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Neji whispers back, tenderly kissing the top of Naruto’s hand. Naruto’s sure that there’s an embarrassing blush dusting his face, but he can’t bring himself to care. “ You know that you’re not going anywhere without a ten-man detail from now on, right?”

 

Naruto snorts, careful not to disturb the others. “ _At least.”_  He jokes back, before instantly sobering. Naruto can’t help but duck his head, ashamed of himself.

 

“I’m sorry,” He says earnestly, looking deeply into Neji’s eyes. He can understand if his friend is furious with him and wants to call him a reckless idiot because he definitely is. Naruto’s fully prepared to sit here quietly and take a lecture or two, a proper dressing down because he deserves it. “I fucked up.”

 

But Neji just shakes his head. He released Naruto’s hand to cup his cheek and Naruto shamelessly leans into it. “You don’t have to apologize,” He says softly, carefully petting his scars. “I’m just glad you’re here. When you didn’t call, I—”

 

Neji pauses, looking away and swallowing down a lump in his throat. Naruto can see the fear in his eyes—a black, numbing, static-filled fear that finishes his sentence where he can’t. Naruto understands without him saying more. He knows what the other man thought, what they _all_ thought _,_ what he was so sure of himself just a few short hours ago—and that’s why Sasuke fought until he hurt himself, why Neji allowed himself to be dirtied when he usually hates such things.

 

“I know,” Naruto says around a sigh. He can’t beg their forgiveness enough. It’s impossible to promise that he’ll never be stupid again, but at least he’ll won’t be pulling anything like this anytime soon. “I’m really—” He begins again, but he gets distracted by Sasuke slowly waking beside him.

 

Sasuke blinks drowsily, waking in slow degrees. There's a sweetly confused look on his face; It’s the same one he always gets when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep. Naruto smiles at the sight of it.

 

“Hey.” He says, smiling wider when Sasuke’s gaze snaps to him.

 

Sasuke’s inhale is audible when he meets Naruto’s eyes, sitting up and leaning forward in one quick motion. He doesn’t seem to breathe for a moment, just staring forward like he can’t believe what he’s seeing—first he looks incredibly vulnerable, then his gaze transforming into something unbelievably warm. Then, his eyes narrow sharply and his mouth twists angrily.

 

“I’m going to kill you,” He hisses, crossing his arms.

 

Naruto shouldn’t find that funny, but he does. He bites down loud laughter as Neji sucks his teeth.

 

“ _Sasuke_ ,” Neji chides, even though the side of his mouth ticks up like he’s smothering a smile. “Don’t be like that.”

 

“It’s okay, Neji,” Naruto says, chortling. “You guys have the right to be pissed.”

 

Sasuke grunts, looking away from him in an attempt to stay angry. He has to struggle with himself not to say something rude even as all the tension in his body recedes, obviously relieved and overjoyed that Naruto’s within arms reach again.

 

“I’m not angry,” He mumbles. Both Neji and Naruto raise a disbelieving eyebrow so he quickly amends. “Alright, I _am,_  but I’m willing to let it go since you already look like that.”

 

Naruto scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Are you trying to say I look like shit?” He asks sarcastically, even though he already knows the answer. “Gee, thanks.”

 

They all share a smile at that, falling quiet for a long while. Neji keeps looking at him like there’s nothing else in the world more interesting. Sasuke can’t take his eyes off Naruto’s cast, then his bandages, then they subtlety trace up to Naruto’s cheeks before he quickly looks back down again; his gaze filled with something like guilt and discomfort even though he shouldn't blame himself for any of it.

 

Naruto knows that he can’t say anything that will convince him otherwise. He knows this, that’s why he bites his lip and desperately thinks of something he _can_ say while the silence stretches on further.

 

He revists all he wanted to say to them while he was captured. But _of course_ , because he is the way he is, none of those words want to spring forth now. Typical.

 

He fidgets, unsure how to proceed. He looks to both of them underneath his lashes but chickens out as soon as he opens his mouth.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sasuke asks, noticing his unease. Neji looks up from his own quiet musings, squeezing Naruto’s hand to encourage him to speak.

 

Naruto sighs, closing his eyes tight so he won’t lose his nerve. “I, look, guys—”

 

“No,” Sasuke says firmly. Naruto snaps his eyes open in question as Sasuke shakes his head. “No heartfelt confessions until after you’ve recovered. You’ll blame it on the pain meds otherwise.” He says it lightly, but Naruto can tell that he’s serious about it, if not nervous.

 

Neji looks just as apprehensive; he looks between them, face guarded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They probably expect him to say something devastating, to deny them again and reiterate how he plans to split as soon as he can stand up straight.

 

Naruto chuckles despite himself, feeling oddly bashful since Sasuke knows what was going through his head without having to ask. Of course he does; these are his best friends, his brothers, the people who love him and who he loves in return. They mean the world to him. Always have, always will. It took nearly dying to face his feelings, because he’s dramatic and ridiculous like that, but at least he’s ready.

 

He was drowning in that love before—so young and confused, so desperate and searching. But now—now, he thinks he can count on their arms to hold him afloat until he learns how to swim on his own.

 

“Maybe this _is_ the morphine talking,” Naruto jests, ducking his head to hide a nervous smile. It doesn't work well, but he tries anyway. “And, don’t get me wrong: I was _completely_ serious when I said we all have a lot of shit to work on first—but I can’t pretend anymore.” Naruto pauses, running his tongue across his teeth as he swallows down his embarrassment.

 

You know what? Fuck it. He’s going for it. Mama ain’t raise no bitch.

 

“If you guys are okay with it, we might be able to...make this work? You know, with the three of us?”

 

He hazards a look up—first to Sasuke, then to Neji, finding them both blinking dumbly at his declaration.

 

Sasuke recovers first; he smirks in victory, even though his eyes are shining and Naruto doesn’t think he imagines the excited shiver that passes over him. Neji smiles wide, barely able to contain himself. He squeezes Naruto’s hand tighter still, voice caught around thankful quiet praises.

 

“Okay,” Neji says simply, pressing a gentle kiss to Naruto’s temple. Naruto sighs into it, struggling to hook his pinky (on the bum hand) around Sasuke’s because he wants to hold his hand, too. Sasuke huffs at him, rolling his eyes, but he's still looking at him with all the love in the world.

 

“You guys are definitely going to have to work through your incredibly unhealthy rivalry, though.” Naruto says bluntly after a moment. There’s no point in not calling it like it is. “Hate sex is all well and good, but it’ll get old after a while, you know?”

 

Neji and Sasuke share a look—something ancient passed between them, the _clink_ of shackles loosening so they can finally wiggle their wrists free.

 

“Fair enough.” Sasuke says carefully, tipping his head to Neji in acknowledgment. Neji nods, slow to take his eyes off Sasuke before turning back to Naruto.

 

“We’ll work on it.” Neji replies easily. Oh please, like anything about this will be _easy._ Still, Naruto can’t sit here and pretend like he’s not up for the challenge.

 

He would take this time to revel in his victory, to ceaselessly wonder what’s going to happen from now on, how this is all going to play out, for better or worse—but his garbage, forgetful mind decides to clue him in on something he so conveniently forgot:

 

They aren’t alone in the room.

 

He hasn’t paid attention to the others in a while, hasn’t checked to make sure that were were still asleep. How could they be? It’s not like the three of them made any effort to keep their voices down. He definitely should have waited for privacy before having such a conversation. It’s not like any of this is a secret to them, but Naruto wasn’t so keen on them hearing the gritty details! Dammit!

 

He flinches, looking around—first to Shikamaru, who hasn’t moved from his spot at the window. The other man’s eyes are still closed, but Naruto groans once he sees that Shikamaru’s hiding a grin behind the fold of his arms.

 

“Oh, god.” Naruto moans, covering his face with his hand in red-hot embarrassment. He's _never_ going to hear the end of this. Shikamaru sniggers, forgoing his ruse, smiling bright as he shrugs and uncurls himself off of the ledge.

 

“Please,” He says around a chuckle, a playful melody chasing his tone. “Go on. Just pretend I’m not here.”

 

Kiba sits up with a wide yawn, shaking off his sleep. He blinks and stretches before taking one look at the three of them huddle together—Neji’s hand still wrapped around Naruto’s, Sasuke pinky still tightly looped around his— before rolling his eyes and muttering a mocking: ”Ugh, _gay.”_ even though his eyes are full of love.

 

Choji scoffs, forgetting about pretending to be asleep, too. He violently throws his pillow at Kiba's face before flicking him off. “You asshole!” He grunts. “They were having a nice moment!”

 

Naruto should feel mortified. He should want to hide in the corner or sink into the floor. He should, but he throws his head back and laughs right along with his friends, too moved by their easy support to care.

 

Eyes glittering like the night sky, he feels….loved.

 

* * *

**C.**

Naruto allows his mother to fawn over him as she sees fit; stuffing him with food and treats. He probably gains ten pounds from being bedridden and force-fed ice cream.

 

It takes a while to get a moment alone— his days are filled with plenty of visits from his  friends who downright spoil him. They bring him whatever he asks for and sit with him until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Tsunade nearly beats them off with a stick, angrily demanding they give him time to rest.

 

Naruto has to convince Fugaku to allow Haku to visit, begging for someone to send word to Gaara and Zabuza that he’s alive as well. Sasuke begrudgingly agrees to do so, thankfully not asking why he’s on such good terms with a Shukaku just yet. He’s too much of a busy-body to hold off much longer, though.

 

“This isn’t a time for strangers,” Fugaku says sternly, wary of having anyone outside of the clan around at this delicate time.”This is a time for family.”

 

All Naruto has to do is pretend like he’s going to cry about it and the old man folds like a lawn chair. An underhanded tactic, but it yields good results. Minato chuckles knowingly but doesn’t comment.

 

Haku bursts into tears the moment he arrives, crying into the sheets as Naruto awkwardly pats his shoulder. He sputters out tearful apologies but Naruto assures him that none of this is his fault. Haku looks like he hasn’t slept in days so Naruto offers that they nap together. That’s the height of friendship, if you ask him. Haku agrees, sniffling and smiling brightly at his suggestion. He’s out like a light in mere moments—clearly running on fumes, his joy at finding Naruto alive and uh, _almost_ well is enough to finally allow him some rest.

 

“Who’s this?” Kiba asks sometime later, finding Haku still huddled on the bed, Naruto resting on his shoulder. “Your girlfriend?”

 

Sasuke and Neji give him a withering look that could peel paint, so he wisely shuts up.

 

When it’s just him and his parents in the room together, Kushina cries for a long time. The toughest person he knows reduced to a blubbering mess like this only makes him cry right along with her. Minato gets choked up himself, alternating between patting Naruto’s head and rubbing Kushina’s back.

 

He knows that she’s crying for more than just him; Their home is gone, lost to a blaze set by the enemy. If not for Asuma and the others, she would have lost him in the same manner. He cannot fathom her anger, her sorrow, her fear. That house his father built—the walls lined and corners filled with all that makes them Uzumaki. He doesn’t know how it feels to stand in front of your whole life as it crumbles to dust.

 

All she loves,

left to crackle and burn.

 

She tells him that she managed to save the family crest from their mantel before she feld. That’s all she could grab in her haste. That, and his baby blanket. He doesn’t fully understand why she’d go for that over anything else, but her eyes are serious when she says: “If you weren’t coming back, I was going to keep something that smelled like you.”

 

He doesn’t have a reply for that, but it’s not like she expected one.

 

Itachi visits him long after his parents depart. He’s been mysteriously absent over the last few days and Naruto tried not to feel sore about that. The older man hesitates at the door, taking a deep breath before making his way inside. He sits on the edge of the bed quietly, eyes distant and searching.

 

Naruto blinks up at him, unaware he’d fallen back asleep. He smiles in greeting but Itachi’s face doesn’t change.

 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” He says softly, fingers curling on the sheets. “I can wait if you still want to rest.”

 

“It’s okay.” Naruto replies. He can’t help but frown at the lines that pull on Itachi’s face, at the exhaustion that colors his words.

 

“It’s not,” Itachi says sharply. Naruto instantly knows that he’s not talking about disturbing him anymore.

 

There’s a charged pause before Itachi’s shaking his head and looking away: “This is the second time I’ve seen you like this. I don’t like it.”

 

“I know,” Naruto sighs, black guilt climbing up his throat. “I’m sorry. You can yell at me if you want.”

 

“I don’t want to yell at you. I probably _should_ , but—” Itachi sighs heavily, grabbing Naruto's chin so he can’t look away. He looks at him with the same eyes he used to, so much so that Naruto’s heart cliches uncomfortably.  ”I want you to just...let us look out for you, _for once_. This was stupid and uncalled for.”

 

Itachi's not wrong to feel this way. Everyone knows that Naruto's incredibly dense, but he's also always had a problem with being protected. It felt like they saw him as weak or less capable for standing in front of him instead of by his side. He's slowly starting to realize that's not the case. He's... cherished, to put it simply. There's something strange and hopeful in that, no matter how long it's been.

 

There’s sadness and uncharacteristic tendrils of fear in Itachi's voice when he says next: “This cannot happen again. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

 

He also sounds frustrated beyond belief, that’s why Naruto finds himself nodding dutifully. “It won’t happen again. I swear it.”

 

An easy promise to make when they don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Itachi knows that he can’t assure that, but he nods all the same.

 

They fall into a comfortable silence. Or, Itachi does, because Naruto hates long stretches of quiet but you know that already.

 

Finally, after ages, Itachi says carefully: “They took Orochimaru into custody.” like he was hesitant to share the news at all.

 

Naruto startles at that, blinking rapidly because: “What?”

 

That's a new one. The cops have never tried arresting one of the gang leaders because it's bound to end badly. It's not worth risking horse heads in beds and walls lined with bullet holes, if you know what I mean.

 

“It's a stop-gap measure, if you can even call it that.” Itachi continues, rolling his eyes in obvious disapproval. “They think it will calm things since it's been utter chaos for the last week. They don't have enough to hold him since the victims are too scared to talk so he'll be free in no time.”

 

“Why, then?” Naruto asks. Why waste the time if everyone knows that he'll be right back to haunt these streets?

 

“It’s not without purpose; Orochimaru's men are laying low until he’s free, in case this is more serious than they think.” Itachi grins then, showing teeth, a smug look in his gaze when he speaks next. “That, and we’ve thinned their ranks considerably. This will give you time to recover and time to plan for the next steps.”

 

“Next steps?” Naruto echoes curiously. He figures the next steps will be more shootouts and bloody beatdowns. The look on Itachi’s face tells him that he’s not exactly wrong.

 

“Did you think this would end just because we got you back?” Itachi asks lowly, something dangerous creeping behind his tone like a shadow. “No, if anything, your retrieval has only spurred this on. We’ll have to go to the other clans with this since the fighting won’t be contained to just this side of town.”

 

He can’t mean—

 

“Yes, we’re past the point of no return,” Itachi says solemnly, reading his thoughts.

 

There hasn’t been a gathering of the Families in over a decade. Something like this is...serious, unprecedented. That means that Itachi’s planning for full-blown eradication—they’ll either ask the other clans to help out or stay the hell out of the way, to turn blind eyes to the fire and the flame or jump headfirst into it.

 

Naruto can’t decide if he’s excited or horrified at the thought. He’ll get back to you on that one.

 

“I doubt Darui will agree to either so easily,” Naruto murmurs carefully, watching Itachi from beneath his lashes. “How do you plan to convince him?”

 

“We must find something to offer or he’ll find something to take.” Itachi says like that’s not incredibly fucking ominous. “I’ll figure something out, so don’t worry about it.  I only want you to focus on recovering. I need you in good shape for what’s to come.”

 

Hold up, wait a damn minute, here. Naruto has some feelings about what he’s implying, but he doesn’t get a chance to voice his protest before Itachi's speaking again.

 

“I'm not asking, Naruto. You're entangled in this just as much as we are.” Itachi says frostily. Naruto can't help but sit up straighter in his bed at full attention, sirens of warning blaring in his head. “Afterwards, if you still want to leave, I won't stop you.  I'll make sure the others don't interfere as well.”

 

“Itachi—” Naruto begins, vigorously shaking his head in denial. He's know it won't work. He knows this, but he's going to try anyway. Stubborn as he is, he's going to try anyway.

 

“This will be the last time I require this of you.” Itachi murmurs, something almost pleading in his voice. That's why Naruto shuts his mouth and lets him talk. “One last time, until blood has been repaid in blood. Can you do that for me? Weak men have no place here, so I need a serious answer.”

 

As much as Naruto wishes to deny him and run for the hills, he can't. He can't, because his mother's house sits smoldering where it once stood. He can't, because he himself lays here half-broken and bloodied by the same clan who wiped out his family—who wiped out the Hyuga, the Umino, and countless others—who ruined this town until it's a shell of its former self.

 

Can he really stand aside when this could be the end? Not a way to peace, because there will never truly be peace in Konoha. But an end, because Itachi's fully planning to put Orochimaru down and take all his little goons along with him.

 

Even his _father_ has agreed to see this through—because after so much loss, so much carnage, it's owed to him. To them. To the people who are gone and to the people who endured.

 

Naruto can't pretend he doesn't covet that, doesn't _crave_ that with his whole being. As sick as it sounds, that's what he wants most in this world.

 

If he has to pick up the mantel once more—if he has to be Uzumaki, to be Uchiha— one _last_ time, he thinks he can live with that. He can finally close this chapter of his story and sleep better at night.

 

Even when he was gone, such thoughts still haunted his dreams.

 

(Hizashi’s last smile as he caught sight of his son, Obito's dead eyes as he hung by his neck, the circle of coffins—emblazoned with spirals, his mother's tears staining the wood—)

 

Running won't help. It won't give him any peace of mind if he walks away again. He _has_ to do this—even though it will disappoint Haku, even though going down this road has many twists and turns—He has to, so that’s that.

 

“You know, it's kinda hot when you talk like that.” Naruto says casually, winking at him. Itachi's startled enough by the sudden shift in mood that he actually laughs: a familiar twinkle in his eye that he gets whenever he thinks Naruto's being both ridiculous and a delight. Naruto grins fiercely in victory over effectively breaking Itachi's stone face.

 

“But all jokes aside,” Naruto mutters, sobering. He’s looking down to his lap when he says: “Okay.” in confirmation. Itachi breathes deeply—not quite a sigh of relief, but close. “But I'm going to be more of a witness than anything. I'll stay, I'll rough a few people up if you need me to, but when it comes to any final blows…”

 

He trails off, hoping that Itachi understands that he doesn't want to kill anyone without having to expressly state it. He's not a coward—he could easily do it, he just... doesn't want to. Hopefully, that's as good an answer as any.

 

Itachi nods solemnly, taking his hand very, very gently and giving him a supportive squeeze. “I know. I'm not asking for you to go that far.”

 

Oh, thank _God_ , Naruto thinks.

 

Then quieter, Itachi says—as if some strange spirit of honesty possesses him :“It...doesn't feel the same when you aren't there. It hasn't for a long while. We have to do this right, if it's truly the last time.”

 

Naruto nods, fully understanding the sentiment. Fugaku _did_ tell them that they would get it one day—back to back, eyes glittering gold, blood on their faces and on their fists.

 

(His back has been unguarded for some time now. He does...miss the feeling, if he's honest. He can run, he can hide, but the night air still causes a chill down his spine. Still calls his name even when he swore he wasn't listening.)

 

“Do you still have any of my jackets?” Naruto asks quietly. He almost hopes that Itachi will say no: the boy that took them off will not be the same man who puts them back on. Is he still worthy to wear one?

 

Itachi seems to think so; he smiles warmly, something beautiful in his eyes that Naruto pretends he doesn't see. He's already too caught up in the emotion of it all and he can't afford to fall further.

 

“Of course,” Itachi replies easily. Oh please, like anything about this will be _easy_. “We might have to get it taken out a little, though.” He jokes, patting Naruto's stomach. His mother really held to her word about beefing him up, he guesses.

 

“Oh, fuck you.” Naruto says, but he's laughing all the same.

 

**…**

 

It's chaos, after.

 

That's the only way to describe it.

 


	10. Ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry for the delay with this update. There's been a lot going on with my life and family so I haven't been too motivated to do much of anything, let alone write. For making you guys wait, this chapter is a little longer than usual! It's also because I wanted to start some of the action and thought it'd be cruel to wait until the next chapter. There's more craziness to come, so prepare yourselves! Don't be afraid to tell me what you think!

* * *

 

**10.**

 

"Love and manipulation, they share houses very often. They are frequent bedfellows."

 

_—Suspiria._

* * *

 

 

**A.**

 

The Sarutobi are the oldest family in Konoha, so it is their responsibility to host any official gathering. It’s tradition, no matter how old and outdated, so they have no choice to accept. It works out well in a way, since the Sarutobi have a large meeting house high up in the hills of the West and they can be described as the most “neutral” of the clans under the right circumstances: not openly antagonistic and unfriendly, like the Kumo. Not full of intrigue and secrets, like the Shukaku. And certainly not so maliciously ambitious, like the Uchiha.

 

(Did he just think that? Strike it from the record.)

 

Asuma is not his friend on a day like today. No matter how much the man cares for him—with all his calls and check-ins over the past week to make sure Naruto was healing alright—today, he is cold and distant, careful not to reveal his ties with one too many lingering glances.

 

Konohamaru is more of the same, for once embodying his namesake while wrapped in the traditional trappings of the Sarutobi. Even though Konohamaru’s ambition has always been to run with the Uchiha, he is Sarutobi at heart. By choice or by force, it is hard to say.

 

They are all business, and Naruto tries not to take it too personally when his arrival is met with grim nods and averted eyes.

 

He is mostly healed, now. Physically, at least. His skin over the past week has gone from an angry red to a dainty pink, still quite tender to the touch, but it’s better than nothing. The cast around his wrist remains, as it will for a number of weeks, and there’s a slight, persistent limp that follows him around no matter how much he tries to force his legs straight.

 

It’s embarrassing to be seen like this—especially by such important people as they discuss the very fate of their city— but Fugaku gave him no choice but to be present for the proceedings. He _is_ the acting head of the Uzumaki, after all. Even though that is news to him.

 

Of course he is, since he is the last remaining son of his clan. He had cousins, _once_ , that maybe could have taken his place, but they are long gone. Buried deep in that circle of coffins that he can still see whenever he closes his eyes.

 

He has no choice but to carry his name like a brand— just like Neji, who wears his own colors for the first time in a long while. Just like Hinata and Hanabi, even though they fled these fields like fire was on their heels, shying away from Clan business ages ago.

 

They’re only here because of duty. It’s as simple as that.

 

The walls of the Sarutobi house are lined with white marble. The floor shines where they walk on it, reflecting their frowning faces. Naruto resists the urge to whistle in appreciation at the sturdy arches curving high over his head or the crystal chandelier glittering beautifully in the daylight. The meeting house is impressive to say the least. It screams of wealth and prosperity. A nice switch from the rows of abandoned buildings and crater-like potholes that plague most of the city.

 

The foyer they stand in is large enough to hold all of Konoha's puppet masters, those who reside in the shadows and those that don't. The lot of them talk in low tones, waiting anxiously for Hiruzen Sarutobi to make an appearance and announce the beginning of the summit. Naruto tries not to stare too hard at faces he hasn’t seen in years since everyone here is on a hair trigger.  It wouldn’t do to start a fight before they even get started, even though it’d be the most fun Naruto’s had in weeks.

 

Sasuke grumbles on his right, adjusting his obi for the fifth time since they left the compound. He’s never been very good at tying them himself and refused to let Naruto or Neji help when they offered—too proud on a day like today, where he must show off the might of the Uchiha as it’s second son. Such a fearsome hound doesn't require _assistance_ , forever standing on his own two feet.

 

The large fan displayed on the back of his robes must feel like a lead weight, something that forces his back straight and makes each step heavy. Or, maybe Naruto’s projecting, since the orange stripes that line his sleeves feel almost like a scar.

 

“Neji,” Fugaku says lowly, mouth ticking up in slight irritation. “Take Sasuke to the bathroom and help him fix his robes. I won’t have him falling out of them today.”

 

Sasuke catches a flinch, pursing his lips in embarrassment as his face colors. Neji nods dutifully before grabbing Sasuke’s arm, fully ignoring his protests. He sends an almost amused look over his shoulder to Naruto before they disappear, one that Naruto pretends not to see so he doesn’t get scolded, too.

 

Minato slaps Fugaku’s arm, chuckling under his breath. “Give him a break,” He says lightly. “We rarely have to wear these stuffy things so he hasn’t had much practice. I know today is important, but that’s no reason to snap at him.”

 

Anyone else would probably lose their jaw if they questioned how Fugaku speaks to his own son, but he lets it slide when he’s around his best friend. If that’s what they are at this point. Brothers, really. Family.

 

So instead Fugaku says, voice carefully controlled like it’s forcing itself through his teeth: “Everything we do right now is being watched and analyzed. Even the tiniest mistake can be perceived as weakness. I will not have them thinking such things about my son or this clan.”

 

Kushina rolls her eyes at his dramatics. She raises her billowing sleeve to her mouth to hide her laughter, voice slightly muffled when she speaks. “Well, I doubt anyone’s forgotten how _you_ used to fall out of your sandals when we were younger. Didn’t you knock over a priceless vase at the Shukaku estate? If I recall correctly, you still owe them a new one.”

 

Fugaku stiffens, sending her a sharp look of warning that’s only slightly tinted with mortification. Kushina keeps right on laughing while Mikoto bites her cheek, shaking her head with a cheshire smile.

 

Naruto smothers his own smile, still wary of Fugaku’s foul mood since he’s barking at anyone that moves. But he can't help but be curious since he's never heard that story. He'll have to remember to get the whole tale from his mother when all this drama has calmed down. It can be hard to see Fugaku as a normal person, but moments like these remind him that he’s just that. _Kind of_.

 

Naruto spots Gaara over by one of the large bay windows, looking regal in his red robes that match his hair. He’s standing next to brother and sister, both equally bright against the white background.

 

At first glance, Kankuro Shukaku doesn’t seem to favor his siblings, but with a longer look, it's easy to pick out the similarities. Naruto isn’t sure how it’s possible that they can look so alike yet so different. But maybe he’s biased, since Mikoto must have used a copier to make Sasuke and Itachi, and Hiashi must have done the same with Hinata and Hanabi.

 

He catches Gaara’s eyes without meaning to, and from one blink to the next, the other man is breaking away from his murmuring circle and taking purposeful strides in his direction. Naruto momentarily panics; _What_ the hell is he doing?! Doesn’t he know that they aren’t supposed to know each other? It’s more than an open secret that all the clans intermingle, but for posterity's sake, they’re made to pretend like they don’t. Them’s the rules!

 

But clearly Gaara’s never cared much for rules. He doesn’t fully approach, instead gesturing only with his eyes for Naruto to follow him behind one of the large columns by the hall. Naruto sighs, trying to figure out a good excuse so he can have a reason to step away. He can think of none and Fugaku will have his head if he knows he’s trying to go shoot the breeze with one of the Shukaku heirs.

 

“Is he a friend of yours?” Hinata whispers softly into his ear, startling him. She’s always been incredibly observant just like her cousin, probably noticing his straying attention and the minor panic he felt when he thought Gaara was going to walk right up to them, appearances be damned.

 

“Yeah,” Naruto mutters, nodding. There’s no reason to lie to her since she’s already figured it out.

 

Hinata smiles gently, patting his forearm. “Don’t worry,” She says sweetly. “I’ll distract Fugaku-san so you can have a word. You won’t have the chance once the meeting starts.”

 

Naruto grins, wishing he could fall to his knees and sing her praises for being perfect as always. Since that would raise some eyebrows, he settles on kissing her cheek instead, whispering a quick: “Thanks, I owe you one.” before she steps away.

 

Hinata pretends to stumble into Fugaku’s side, catching herself before she puts too much weight on him. He reacts predictably: he grips her arms for dear life and immediately begins to fret.

 

It's a bit of an underhanded tactic, using her health like a weapon: Hinata had a weaker constitution when they were younger. She was prone to fainting spells and nosebleeds, often having to stay in the house because the heat would exhaust her easily.

 

It isn't the first time she's feigned her illness to get what she wants—they were all problematic teenagers, okay?—and her charade works like a charm. All the adults are cooing over her, questioning if she’s well enough to attend, and it’s enough of a distraction that Naruto slips away mostly unnoticed.

 

 _Mostly,_ because Hanabi notices his hasty retreat and rolls her eyes, catching on immediately. She doesn’t rat him out, though, so he’ll count that as a win.

 

Gaara’s eyebrows are low when Naruto steps behind the column. His arms are crossed tightly across his chest and his foot taps in a steady, irritable beat.

 

“You were _supposed_ to run.” Gaara says roughly, not looking at him. It takes a moment for Naruto to understand what he’s referring to, and he scratches the back of his head sheepishly when it clicks. “I thought you were dead until your friend told me otherwise, _three days later_.”

 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Naruto says, voice quiet and small. He’s been chewed out plenty but everyone he knows, and that sucked, but coming from Gaara it somehow feels worse. Naruto raises his arm so his sleeve falls, revealing his cast. “I was pretty messed up so I couldn’t reach out like I wanted to.”

 

Gaara looks at his arm in uncomfortable silence, teeth gritting behind his pursed lips. Eventually, he sighs, eyes softening into something gentle.

 

“It’s done. There’s no reason to torture you over it.” He says. Which, all things considered, is a _poor_ choice of words. Gaara notices this, grimacing in apology.

 

Then quieter he says, nearly shuffling his feet in embarrassment: “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

 

Naruto grins, feeling warm at what he considers the closest declaration of friendship he’ll probably ever get from the other man.

 

“Awww, I love you, too.” Naruto says playfully, clapping Gaara’s shoulder companionably. He only grins wider when Gaara rolls his eyes—affectionately, of course.

 

He sees Sasuke and Neji emerging from the bathroom from the corner of his eyes.  Sasuke’s robes are expertly tied now, much to his chagrin, and Neji’s smug mug shines brightly against the polished tiles.

 

 _Of course_ they’re at the perfect angle to see Naruto in his hiding place have an illegal conversation. Of course they are, and he can only sigh deeply when he sees their faces screw up in confusion and their paces quicken as they make their way over.

 

“Gaara Shukaku, I presume?” Neji asks politely, stepping forward with his hand outstretched in one fluid motion. Neji subtly angles his body so that he’s standing in front of Naruto—or, he thinks himself subtle. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Gaara or Naruto that he’s purposefully doing so.

 

Sasuke’s not even being polite about his mistrust. He looks down his nose at Gaara, raising an eyebrow at Naruto and Gaara’s proximity. He crosses his arms and shifts his feet into a blatant defensive stance, and Naruto resists the urge to bury his face in his hands.

 

“There’s no need for introductions,” Gaara says, mouth ticking up into an amused smirk. “We’ve all met before.”

 

Like Naruto, Neji and Sasuke don’t immediately recall that they have, if the looks on their faces are  any indication. Neji blinks, obviously combing his brain for some clue but ultimately coming up with nothing.

 

“Then forgive me for forgetting,” He says lightly, tilting his head in a way that never fails to charm whoever he’s talking to. “I can see that you and Naruto have managed to get reacquainted since.”

 

There’s almost no hint of accusation or suspicion in his voice when he says it. _Almost,_ but Naruto’s no fool. He knows what to look for. Gaara does too, apparently, because his smirk only slides wider and he chuckles lowly into his fist.

 

“I had thought you were only involved with Uchiha since he was so hostile when we spoke,” Gaara says bluntly, appraising Naruto as if he’s seeing him for the first time. “But I can see now that you’ve managed to snag Hyuuga as well. Impressive.”

 

Gaara pauses, shaking his head in mock disappointment as Sasuke and Neji squawk in indignation. “Here I thought we’d be able to have one more go, but I can see that there’s too many dragons guarding this castle. What a shame.”

 

With that, he shrugs and playfully winks at Naruto like the magnificent fucker he is, before he's sauntering off to rejoin the crowd.

 

Oh, that _son of a bitch._

 

Naruto’s going to wring his neck when he gets the chance. The bastard really just left him holding the bag for his own amusement. Granted, he probably _should_ have told Sasuke and Neji about his...thing with Gaara so they wouldn’t be caught off guard like this, but he was single then! It doesn’t count, right?

 

Right?!?

 

Sasuke and Neji stare at Gaara’s retreating back, fury robbing them of their voices. Oh, they’re _pissed,_ and Naruto’s sure that he’s going to hear an earful about this later on when they have the time.

 

Or maybe he’ll hear it now, because Sasuke narrows his eyes and turns them to Naruto, question forming on his lips.

 

“Don’t you dare slutshame me.” Naruto mutters seriously before Sasuke can get a word in. Sasuke stops short, blinking in surprise while Neji snorts out startled laughter.

 

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Neji replies with his hand over his heart, slowly coming down off of his chuckles. His gaze is warm where it sits on Naruto’s face.

 

“Shut up, idiot.” Sasuke grunts at the same time, but there’s no bite behind it.

 

He gives a valiant effort to let it go since this isn’t the place to have such a conversation, but he can’t help himself.

 

“Him?” Sasuke asks after a slight pause, face screwing up in distaste. “ _Really_?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Naruto replies, fully confused. Is he blind or something? Gaara’s fucking _smoking_ —

 

But you know what? That’s not what’s important here. They’re both taking the news surprisingly well. To be fair, they’ve only been officially dating since last week, when Naruto had his heartfelt declaration of love. It must be obvious to them that whatever took place with Gaara happened before they reconciled (especially since he’s been basically bedridden for days), so they aren’t _too_ upset about it.

 

You know what he calls that? Growth.

 

Sasuke doesn’t get the chance to answer his question because a bell rings from somewhere in the foyer, announcing Hiruzen’s presence. The three of them quietly agree to put their conversation on hold and hurry back to join their group as subtlety as they can.

 

Hinata shares a secret smile with him, one that Naruto’s happy to return. Fugaku narrows his eyes when he sees Naruto reappear, but thankfully he doesn’t question where he’s been.

 

Itachi materializes almost out of nowhere, striding forward to take his place by his father’s side. His hair is loose and falls well past his shoulders, making him look younger than he is. It’s been a long while since Naruto’s seen him like that and he can’t help the way his heart actually skips a beat.

 

 _Wrong brother,_ he reminds his fluttering chest, _calm yourself._

 

“Everything is in place?” Fugaku asks him quietly, but the rest of them hear anyway. Sasuke raises an eyebrow while Neji watches from the corners of his eyes, clearly curious. Naruto can only blink in confusion. What does _that_ mean? What’s in place?

 

“Of course, Father.” Itachi says, face carefully blank. Naruto desperately wants to know what they’re talking about, but he won’t ask and Itachi certainly won’t offer, so he’ll leave it alone.

 

“Good, good.” Fugaku says, patting Itachi’s arm. He no doubt sees Naruto and the others’ questioning looks, but he tactifully ignores them. Instead, he runs a hand through Naruto’s stubborn hair in a last ditch effort to get it to lay down. Naruto resists the urge to bat his hand away and lets it happen, even though almost everyone has tried in vain today.

 

Minato smiles, shaking his head at Fugaku’s budding frustration. “You must know that it’s pointless, right?” He asks.

 

Fugaku sighs heavily, looking to the heavens for a sliver of patience. He’s going to need it, especially since the large oak doors to the meeting hall creak open in front of them with dramatic flourish.

 

Hiruzen Sarutobi stands in the open doorway, hands clasped tightly on his walking stick. His face is grim and his posture is rigid, poised and proper like a royal posing for his official portrait. Naruto feels himself stand up straighter at the sight of him, immediately intimidated without exactly knowing why.  

 

“Come,” Hiruzen says lowly, beckoning them inside with a wave of his frail hand. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

 

 

**B.**

 

They sit around a gigantic round table, like the ones of old.

 

That way, there is no “head” seat at either end—a show of respect for each clan leader here, as they are all kings in their own right. There is still some protocol to follow though, as each current head sits in a high-backed chair while the highest ranking members of his or her group stand behind it.

 

For that reason, Naruto gets to sit, flanked by his mother and father. Kushina smiles bittersweetly when he settles into his intricately carved chair, a complicated look passing over her features like a shadow before it disappears.

 

Neji fits perfectly into the backdrop of tapestries that line the wall, spotless as he is. His eyes catch on his family crest that is enshrined over the large fireplace in the corner. Hinata squeezes his shoulder from her place behind him, eyes gentle when he looks up to her with an unreadable expression.

 

(The Sarutobi have always kept record of those that have haunted these halls before, so there are many crests of those that... no longer exist. They still exist _here_ and always will, symbolically burning over a well-tended fire.)

 

Naruto sees the Uzumaki crest sitting not far from the Hyuga. He sighs, a strange feeling in his chest that's hard to shake. He tries to distract himself, making a game of identifying the crests of the other clans currently in the room.

 

Sitting at the round table are the brothers Hashirama and Tobirama of the Senju Clan, an equally ancient family located in Western Konoha. Kaguya of the Otsutsuki Clan sits stiffly in her chair, long hair nearly reaching the floor even though it is piled high upon her head. She is surrounded by her twin sons who share the name Zetsu.  Both clans are allied underneath the Sarutobi.

 

The Shukaku have invited Danzo and Sai, who represent what’s left of the Shimura Clan. Naruto has never been sure of their exact relation and there's never been a good time to ask. The Akatsuki Clan of the North also attend, it’s members present being the cousins Nagato, Konan, and Yahiko. They lack any shared features, but make up for it with a similarly thick aura of danger.

 

Inoichi and Ino of the Yamanaka Clan sit with Kumo, which is a fairly new development. For a long time they were much too prideful to allow themselves to be absorbed, but Darui didn't give them much of a choice. Since they still planned to stay in the South,  they had to fall in line. It's a simple as that. They are accompanied by Shibi and Shino of the Aburame Clan, a father and son who have always been the odd men out—much too strange for everyone's taste, though no one has the balls to say it.

 

The lot of them are minor clan heads and only exist under the banners of the larger territory leaders, just as the Uzumaki and Hyuga exist under the Uchiha clan. Regardless, these clans still hold rank, even in their weakened and... _reduced_ states. Therefore, they are represented.

 

Hiruzen waits for everyone to take their respective seat and settle in, hands tapping steadily on the table in front of him. Asuma shifts from foot to foot as he stands on his uncle’s right, already looking bored out of his skull. Konohamaru hovers uncomfortably, pointedly not making eye contact with Naruto or any of the Uchiha.

 

Poor thing. Either he’s still embarrassed about what happened between them, or he doesn’t know how to be casual about the fact that he’d rather be sitting across from his grandfather, rather than standing behind him. It’s probably a bit of both.

 

“Welcome, everyone.” Hiruzen begins once they’ve all taking their rightful places. “Thank you all for coming. I’m sure we all have other things we need to be doing, but we understand what must be done.”

 

“This is well overdue.” Darui says lowly, fist forming on the tabletop. “The Yakushi have long-since overstepped their bounds.” His own attendants, Omoi and Karui, nod stiffly from their place behind him at his words.

 

Of course they’d feel that way after finding out that Orochimaru set up shop in their neck of the woods and has been doing so for quite some time. Anyone here would be rightfully pissed if they discovered the same.

 

“That they have.” Kaguya concurs, nodding in Darui’s direction. She cuts her eyes to Fugaku when she speaks next, the judgemental twist of her mouth quickly setting the room on edge.

 

“But is this not more of a personal matter? The Uchiha took to the streets _before_ we were called here, since one of their own was taken. Now that he’s returned, is this really necessary? Revenge is such a petty thing, isn’t it?”

 

Naruto can almost hear Sasuke gritting his teeth from where he stands behind Fugaku, but he’s wise enough not to speak out of turn. As is Neji, who works his jaw but he refrains from saying anything.

 

Shibi Aburame shakes his head and goes to speak. His words are careful and concise, while his dark sunglasses hide whatever his true feelings may be.

 

“Orochimaru’s been stealing the children of Konoha. That is not something to take lightly. This may have began as a personal matter, but it shouldn’t end as one.”

 

“True,” Hashirama says, tipping his head in concession. “But we’ve come to discuss their total annihilation, haven’t we? Not just simple retaliation. That will be...messy.”

 

“Undoubtedly,” Fugaku murmurs, weaving his fingers together in his lap. Naruto finds himself holding his breath in anticipation, already wary despite the talks just beginning.

 

“But I’m prepared to shoulder the responsibility for suggesting it. I do not wish to disrespect any of you by intruding on your territory without permission. If you wish to stay out of it, that’s perfectly fine,” Fugaku slowly turns his head to look to each clan in the room, one by one. “But do not attempt to stop me.” He finishes frostily, as if daring any of them to argue.

 

There’s a charged pause after his words. Naruto can tell that the others are wisely going over their responses in their heads, as not to set off a bomb. Darui scoffs, waving his hand limply as he says:

 

“Or what? You’ll take the rest of us on, too? You Uchiha are tough, but not that tough.” Then lower he says, eyes narrowed and body taunt: “I don’t take kindly to being threatened. If you—”

 

“That’s not necessary, Darui.” Hiruzen interjects sharply before he can continue. “I heard no threat; he’s only stating that he plans to move forward regardless, but he’d rather we approve before he does what he feels is necessary. Isn’t that right, Fugaku?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in Fugaku’s direction.

 

“It is,” Fugaku replies snipplily, eyeing Darui carefully in case he’s ready to hop across the table.

 

(Hey, it’s happened before.)

 

“I find no issue with it.” Gaara’s father Rasa says, stifling a cough in his napkin. Kankuro helps his father sit up straighter and Naruto forces himself not to look in Gaara’s direction. No one is supposed to know about Rasa’s weakened condition and somehow Naruto thinks he might give it away just by staring too hard. “He tried to sell my daughter to the highest bidder. I won’t allow that to go unpunished.”

 

“If you’re in need of extra men, we can provide them.” Nagato adds with murmurs of agreement from his cousins. “There's no love lost between our clan and the Yakushi. They've been a thorn in our sides for a long time.”

 

“It seems that _most_ of us are in agreement.” Danzo says, sending a pointed look to Kaguya. She sneers at him but doesn’t reply. “But what of the East, once they’re gone? Are we to leave it unattended or will we divide it amongst ourselves?”

 

That’s a good question, isn’t it?

 

“Of course you’d be in agreement,” Kaguya says dryly. “As you all stand to gain from this. We in the West have no claim to the East, but the rest of you will almost double your territories if it's divided into thirds.”

 

“A few more scraps of land isn’t enough to agree on destroying an entire clan, Kaguya,” Inochi mutters, nearly rolling his eyes. “That’s hardly why anyone is agreeing to do this. Be reasonable.”

 

“I’m trying to be,” Kaguya spits, whipping her head around to stare at Inochi. “It’s the rest of you that are—”

 

“And if we were to offer you some of their holdings?” Itachi interjects, cutting her off.  Kaguya huffs indignantly, ready to fly into a rant about how rude it is to interrupt, but Itachi produces a stack of folders from the folds of his robes, distributing amongst the table.

 

“What’s this?” Hashirama asks, quickly looking through the thick packet that is presented to him.

 

“We’ve prepared a list of Orochimaru's legitimate businesses and ventures,” Fugaku explains blandly. “What sits in front of you is your portion of them, based on the type of business your clan conducts. We managed to get get the percentages fairly even. The highest difference is only about 3% of whatever he has his hands in.”

 

Fugaku pauses for effect, taking in the surprised faces of those around him. “I also have a list of his illegitimate businesses, if anyone is interested. I'll remove myself from any bids for territory as well. I have no need for such things. Land or not, we _all_ have something to gain. Take what you want, leave what you don't. Whatever works best for you."

 

Then quieter, said so lowly that only those sitting closest to him hear it, Fugaku mutters: “Most of all, I’m really just after some peace and quiet.”

 

There’s a bit of a stunned silence as the other clans  read over their portions. Darui breaks it by laughing loudly, shaking his head in mirth.

 

“Well, we were certainly foolish to think you hadn’t thought this through.” He says, looking down at his packet with a grin and gently running his fingers across the pages. “Alright, I’m in. I’ll stay out of your way, but call me when you shoot him between the eyes. I don’t want to miss that.”

 

 _We must find something to offer or he’ll find something to take_ , Itachi had said. Naruto guesses that’s why Itachi was mysteriously absent over the last week, too busy compiling their ace in the hole. At the same time, this answers another question of his, about what changes when Fugaku’s on the frontline. He'll sacrifice anything if it means that he can, thoroughly and meticulously—

 

Get what he wants.

 

Kaguya sniffs haughtily, though she eyes her own packet with poorly disguised interest. Not quite won over yet, but she’s clearly softened considerably now that she has some stake in this.

 

“It’s settled then,” Inochi says, clapping his hands together. “When are you planning to strike, Fugaku?”

 

Fugaky doesn’t blink when he says: “Tonight.” surprising the hell out of everyone in the room.

 

 _Tonight?!?_ Since _when_ was this the fucking plan!?

 

Shouldn't they have discussed something like this first?!

 

Naruto starts, sharing a concerned look with Neji before he can stop himself. Neji’s eyes are equally wide but he schools his expression almost immediately.

 

Sasuke’s brows lower in confusion while Minato makes a noise in the back of his throat that almost sounds like a protest, but Kushina elbows him in the stomach to make sure he keeps quiet. Itachi fakes a cough into his fist to hide his own surprise, staring at his father like he’s grown a second head.

 

“That’s good,” Asuma says, speaking up for the first time since the meeting began. “I’ve pulled all the strings I could but they won’t be able to hold Orochimaru much longer. We’ll have to act as soon as possible, while the going's good.”

 

Danzo sighs heavily before he grumbles: “Understandable. I had thought we would have a little more time before this town descends back into hell, but the theater of war doesn't wait to call on its players to fill their roles.“

 

The elders nod sagely at that, taking a moment to reflect on what those words mean to them. It’s Inochi who speaks up first, turning to look curiously at Naruto when he says:

 

“Speaking of roles…” _Shit,_ Naruto thought he was in the clear and no would require him to speak. He was perfectly fine with all the elders doing the talking. So close!

 

“What say you, Uzumaki? I honestly didn’t think you’d attend, given your...unfortunate departure from our ranks before. This began because of you, didn't it? And now you have nothing to say? Forgive me for putting you on the spot, but will you abandon your post again once this ends or stay to carry on your family name?”

 

This is _exactly_ why he didn’t want to come, you know? Especially since the spotlight is on him and the rest of the clans are watching on with varying degrees interest as Naruto freezes solid in surprise.

 

The worst part is that Inochi isn’t exactly wrong when he says this began because of him. If he hadn’t got himself kidnapped they probably could have continued in this uneasy coexistence with the Yakushi. Maybe. Such strained ties could have torn for another reason even if he never came back looking for Haku, but it’s hard to say.  All he knows is that he’s sweating like a whore in church since he can’t easily answer the man’s question.

 

“Uh…” Is all Naruto can manage, face coloring like a tomato.

 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this discussion.” Neji replies tightly, hands fisting in his lap. Sasuke looks like he’s about two seconds from telling the Yamanaka head to _fuck off_ , but he doesn’t get that far.

 

“He can speak for himself, can’t he?” Inochi fires back hotly. “And it's certainly _interesting_ that you'd be the first one to jump to his defense. Interesting and predictable.” Neji sits forward in his chair, riled and ready to bite his head off, but Shibi’s speaking up before he can.

 

“It is all of our responsibilities to uphold the traditions our ancestors left behind.” He mutters. “I also would prefer that such a proud clan like the Uzumaki not end here because of the misfortune that befell it. The Hyuga as well. That being said, it is both of your duties to provide heirs, as well as our duty to guide you since—”

 

 _Whoa,_ that's _a_ ** _hard_** left you just took, Shibi. Slow down a minute!

 

There's a sudden swell of indignant voices, all talking overtop one another, and Naruto can almost see these delicate negotiations crumbling right in front of him. All at once, everyone's carefully maintained facade of decorum goes up in smoke.

 

“That is _not_ what we came here to talk about,” Kushina booms, stepping forward menacingly. Minato uses himself like a meat shield, stopping her from putting her hands on somebody. “Shame on you for ganging up on children! You will not attempt to humiliate them by—”

 

“Children? Pah. We were all married by their age!” Kaguya sniffs, shooting Kushina a disapproving look. “They are more than that. They are all that remains. Now, I won’t go so far as to ask who they’ll be sleeping with—”

 

 _Each other_ wouldn’t be a good answer to that question, would it?

 

Naruto doesn’t think so, so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

 

“—but I do think we have the right to know what their plans are for the future. Such things affect all of us and the future of our great city.”

 

“Let’s not pretend like any of you care about this “great” city all that much,” Konan grunts, sounding exasperated. “Inochi only asked because he’s vying to find his daughter a husband. He knows the only way that will happen is by forcing someone else’s hand.”

 

“Fuck you,” Ino hisses, stopped short when she lurches forward only by her father’s vice-like grip on her arm. “You’re pushing forty with no partner to speak of. You’ve got no room to talk!”

 

“Well, if both the Uzumaki and Hyuga need heirs, can’t Blondie just marry one of the Hyuga girls, pop out a few boys and be done with it?” Darui muses, mostly to himself, but everyone hears it anyway.

 

Kushina nearly explodes, face blooming red to match her hair.  Minato’s frantic voice trying to calm her down can barely be heard over the sound of steam coming out of her ears.

 

“Oh, hell no.” Hanabi mumbles angrily, fists balling at her sides while Hinata gasps. “You all have some _fucking_ nerve telling us what we need to do—”

 

Naruto can only blink stupidly, trying to figure out how this conversation got away from him. Weren’t they just talking about premeditated murder? Why has the hot button issue changed from that to how he has no plans to be fruitful and multiply?

 

“That's not a terrible idea, actually.” Hashirama says with a shrug.

 

“ **Yes, it is!** ” Sasuke and Neji growl in unison. They both look like they're going to pop a blood vessel and Naruto worries this might soon lead to physical fighting.

 

“No one asked you.” Itachi says at the same time, staring daggers at Hashirama. The man barely catches a flinch, raising his hands up in surrender.

 

“This is entirely inappropriate!” Rasa exclaims, shaking his head in disgust. “This is hardly anyone's business but their own, and you all should be ashamed of yourselves for pushing the issue!”

 

“It would be you come to their defense, Rasa,” Tobirama sneers, rolling his eyes. “Since you’ve never cared for what’s good and proper. We all know your daughter is carrying a child of the Uchiha. Knocked up by the son of a “cleaner” no less; he can manage to clear every detail of a crime scene, but doesn’t even notice a burst condom.”

 

_Oh shit._

 

Wait, how does he know that?

 

(One should never underestimate the power of Konoha's grapevine. It's felled bigger men than them.)

 

Gaara's halfway around the table before anyone can blink, raising his fist in preparation. Temari snatches his hand out of the air with the practiced ease of someone who's seen this too many times before. She grabs her brother's arms and drags him backwards so they can reclaim their place behind their father.

 

There's a fire in her eyes that says she's not completely unaffected by such hateful words, but she doesn't comment.

 

“You’ll watch your _fucking_ mouth,” Kankuro spits at the same time, slamming his hands down on the table.

 

Yep, it might be about time to wrap this up.  

 

“Did you really just try to attack me?” Tobirama murmurs in disbelief. He looks utterly scandalized, like a man not used to having consequences for his actions.

 

“Yeah.” Gaara's replies gruffly, rolling his shoulders to test the mobility of his stiff formal wear. “But don't worry; we all still have to leave through the front door. You better hope I—”

 

“That’s enough!” Hiruzen shouts, standing up to command the room’s attention. “This behavior is childish and vile. You’re all guests in my home and I will not allow for any of you to be so blatantly disrespected.”

 

Hiruzen huffs, much too old to be shouting like he is. Asuma’s brow creases in concern and he guides his uncle back down into his chair.

 

Well that certainly escalated quickly, didn't it? Naruto might have enjoyed it more if he didn't become the main topic of discussion.

 

Hiruzen rubs his forehead, for once feeling just as old as he looks. He sighs heavily and talks slowly, like he knows that he's dealing with a bunch of children.

 

“None of us are our fathers.” He says softly, shaking his head. “We do not have to stick so closely to the customs that were forced upon us. I’m sure that everyone here will do what is best for their clan, and it is all of our right to have some _privacy_ regarding such delicate matters. This was completely uncalled for, and most of you are setting a terrible example for the next generation.”

 

The others look at least somewhat cowed, bowing their heads as they listen to Hiruzen's words.

 

“I should have known better than to think any of you could pretend to be civilized for even a moment.” Kushina mumbles lowly.

 

Thankfully, only Minato and Naruto hear her.  It would no doubt lead to another spirited conversation if someone else caught her words, and Naruto can say with certainty that he does _not_ want to see where that one would go.

 

Especially since Gaara almost took Tobirama's head off. Granted, Naruto was hoping for a little action, but not that; it would probably start another war right here in this room before they finish the first one!

 

(Gaara still might make good on his threats, since his fist are still clenched and his teeth grit quietly behind his lips. Naruto sends him a look that he hopes comes off as supportive, but it might just read as an awkward grimace.)

 

Hiruzen continues speaking while Naruto blanks most of it out, still thoroughly offended that he was placed on the hot seat. If he’s honest, he knew such a question would arise eventually. He just didn’t expect for it to be today, not when they have much more _important_ matters to discuss.

 

It’s an uncomfortable thought, knowing that he is the last one who can carry on the Uzumaki name. That will be a little difficult, seeing as how he has not one, but _two_ boyfriends at the moment—and one of them is in the same predicament that he is.

 

Can Naruto really stand by and—

 

Nope! Nope! Let’s not go there!

 

Things to worry about when this town isn’t about to fall down around their ears.

 

(He can’t help but notice the pensive look that seems permanently fixed on Neji face, sure that something similar is painted across his own. Naruto quickly looks away before he sees something that he shouldn’t.)

 

“Now, if we’re to strike tonight we will need a suitable plan of action,” Hiruzen says after a moment. “I suspect you have already thought of this, Fugaku.”

 

Fugaku only nods, seemingly struck a little dumb by the way this whole thing tumbled out of control. He  sighs so heavily that his whole body sags with it. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here and Naruto couldn’t agree more.

 

“Let’s hear it, then.” Danzo says tiredly, rubbing at his temples. The other leans forward almost excitedly to hear what Fugaku has planned for the night.

 

**…**

 

“Believe it or not,” Minato says gleefully after they depart. Kushina still fumes in her seat, glaring out the window like it's the cause of all her problems. “That went better than the last one.”

 

Naruto doesn't believe him for a second.

* * *

 

**C.**

A Blitz.

 

That's the plan for tonight. Simple and easy.

 

Usually, there'd be much more formality—maybe a few one on one duels, followed by a rally of champions—something dramatic and ridiculous to display their swordsmanship and honor. But they don't have that kind of time.

 

So, like Hashirama said, things are going to get a little..messy.

 

See, it starts like this:

 

One of Orochimaru's most trusted advisors, Kidomaru, has been absent from the city for quite some time, handling business god knows where alongside god knows who. He returned once the big boss was taken into custody, in an effort to restore order. He’s been seen around his usual haunts and rumor has it that he’s looking to be promoted for his efforts.

 

Kidomaru began as street-level don on the illegal side of Yakushi business but worked his way up until he has the Snake's ear, using his pretty words to get whatever he wants. No one knows what heights he wishes to climb to from here. All they know is that plenty of the rough-rowdy boys that play in the dark look up to him and follow his lead as Orochimaru’s unofficial proxy.

 

Taking out someone like that sends the message that none of them are safe. It will also lead to plenty of internal discord, as any goon with the slightest bit of ambition will be clamoring for the chance to take his place. Too bad they won't get that far.

 

This will make them uneasy and unorganized, distrustful and divided. The Uchiha are going to take advantage of that, hitting hard all at once to eliminate the ladder rungs of Orochimaru’s organization until they are left with only him and Kabuto.

 

They’re going to watch as their empire crumbles beneath them, and then they will follow it right to hell.

 

Sasuke and Neji will lead the charge to eliminate Kidomaru. Fugaku makes sure to reiterate that they are _both_ assuming command— partially to avoid in-fighting between them, and as a quiet warning for Sasuke not to lose control.

 

Naruto can only feel a heavy sense of dread when Fugaku shares his plans. The last time Sasuke was left to his own devices, he ended up in jail and the rest of them ended up fucked in the head.  Did everyone magically forget that part? Naruto sure didn't. But apparently it's just _fine_ when Fugaku commands it— just another unfortunate sacrifice in the pursuit of victory. What could possibly go wrong?

 

How the fuck did Naruto get here, he wonders?

 

(Through a stumbling series of missteps and mistakes that he won’t torture himself by reliving now. He can save that for later tonight, when he tries to sleep.)

 

Hell, he’s already traumatized enough. What’s a little more blood on his hands?

 

(It’s plenty, but he’s already gone and convinced himself he can do this.)

 

Fugaku knows better than anyone that Sasuke’s not always working with a full deck, but he still trusts him to get the job done, so there will be no changing it. Naruto knows that even if he tries to convince them otherwise, no one will listen. Least of all Sasuke. He’s always so eager to please his father, to prove his power and worthiness. While Fugaku's always out to prove that his son isn't a liability.

 

(A little too much misplaced faith maybe, or it could be something else entirely.)

 

So, even though Itachi sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders, even though Neji looks uncomfortable and unsure, even as the others shift in uncertainty since they’re all too aware of what Sasuke’s capable of when he’s set completely loose—

 

There will be no changing it.  

 

Because secretly, his friends crave moments like this, despite their reservations. Even Sasuke—with all his vows to be better when he and Naruto are alone— still yearns for this carnage. The beast embedded inside of them asks for its due whenever it wants.

 

They all were twisted so early around Fugaku’s whims that they’re hopeless to escape. Taken under a monster’s wing from the time they were babies, unpolished and untethered. Turned from wild beasts of boys into men.

 

Now, they scratch at the doors and howl at the moon while stuck in these perfect skins, itching for release. Itching to show all they’ve learned. So, Fugaku will let them loose back into the night and watch from the windows, waiting for the first bite.

 

(Yet still, they’ll remain, clawing and praying at his feet despite this cruelty and twisting of their nature,  waiting to see what he’ll change them into next.)

 

Fugaku will join them on the hunt tomorrow, when the sun rises. He’ll rest peaceably in his bed and let them do as they were taught. After tonight, there will be barely a whisper of the Yakushi left, and he will emerge in the daylight to silence the rest. That almost seems unfair, twisted and backwards, unfitting of the promises they were made about standing tall together, shoulder to shoulder, back to back.

 

But in truth, that’s what his friends were waiting for. This is what they expected from the moment this decision was made.

 

They have no master when their master is sleeping, and they fully plan to take advantage of it.

 

Naruto understands this. He understands, even though he wishes for things to be different. This is the way of the Uchiha. He was raised on these same principles, on this borderline insanity that follows their every step.  

 

It will never be so easy to shake off the years of conditioning. Can he fault them for knowing no different when they never escaped as he did? Can he truly think of them as monsters when he still feels that same bloodlust—deep, _deep_ down if he’s not careful to discipline his thoughts?

 

That’s not something he can hope to answer, and now isn’t the time.

 

(When _will_ be time, Naruto? When you wake up in a cold sweat, faced with everything you’ve done, drowning in all the feelings you’ve done a shitty job of hiding?}

 

(…..Probably.)

 

“I won’t let you down, father.” Sasuke says resolutely, clenching his fist at his sides. Watching him from the sides of his eyes, Sasuke seems taller and darker than he remembers. There’s a glow in his eyes that makes goosebumps erupt on Naruto’s skin.

 

“We’ll finish this.” Neji mutters hollowly, his voice absent his usual fire. Naruto feels something cold drop in the pits of his stomach, something that shouts of warning but it's hard to hear over his tumbling thoughts.

 

Neji’s head is bowed, eyes staring holes into the floor beneath him. He accepts his duty with a nod, but doesn’t look up. He’s been distant since the end of the summit, like he’s barely listening to anything they say. His thoughts are clearly on something else entirely.

 

There’s a slight horror in his eyes that is telling of his true feelings, but he knows better than to try to change Sasuke or Fugaku’s mind, either. He's watched this same scene unfold longer than Naruto has, at this point. He knows better than anyone how this ends.

 

“Good, good.” Fugaku says, eyes bright with something like pride. “I expect no less.”

 

For a moment, only a moment—so quick and fleeting, Naruto sees Neji’s gaze transform. It’s not empty, like he expects, but red-hot with rage and grief. It takes him a second to realize that those fiery eyes aren’t directed at just the floor; instead, He's looking sidelong at Fugaku with his fists clenched so hard that red almost seeps between his fingers. Then, it’s gone. His eyes flutter back to the ground like they never left, carefully void.

 

**...**

 

Naruto pretends he didn’t see.  

 

**…**

 

There’s a short ceremony when Naruto redons his jacket. Itachi was only joking with him when he said they might have to alter it, because of course it’s a perfect fit. The kanji letters emblazoned on his back glow brightly under the light of the moon.

 

A battered orange ribbon is still in one of the pockets, stuffed there for the last time years ago and completely forgotten. Despite the strange, ambivalent feeling that grips his chest when the heavy denim sits his shoulders again, Naruto mutters a quick _fuck it_ and ties it around his forehead so his hair spikes up just like it used to.

 

He might as well be all in since he's messed around and sold his soul back to the Devil. He’s already too far in the deep end to pretend like he’s fighting very hard to get out of it. His signature on the dotted lines speaks loudly enough.

 

Kiba grins, pumping his fist in the air. “Fuck yeah!” He shouts happily, punching Naruto in the shoulder companionably.

 

Sasuke smirks with something like victory, mumbling something vaguely encouraging. Shikamaru chuckles and rolls his eyes, even though his gaze is full of love. Choji ruffles Naruto’s hair playfully, while Neji watches on with a gentle smile.

 

Itachi stays just long enough to witness this in an almost holy silence.  He has his own orders and will soon disappear into the night with his band of minions — _don’t_ tell them he said that— because Fugaku knows better than to leave them off of their leashes for too long. Those that follow Itachi are usually reserved for the most violent of years, and for good reason.

 

They stand off to the side like always—not separated, but certainly not included. That's how it's always been and Naruto isn't exactly sure why, but he sees no reason to change it now.

 

Deidara winks at him regardless, flashing a thumbs up like he's proud. Sasori watches, quietly appraising, before solemnly nodding in Naruto's direction. He's never been much of a talker, so Naruto knows that's the highest praise he's ever going to get. Kisame couldn't care less, but that's to be expected.

 

Itachi pats Naruto's shoulder gently, cupping his cheek so he can look him in the eyes. There's a special tenderness in his gaze that's always been reserved only of Naruto. “ You're still healing so don't overdo it,” He says, tone stern and commanding like that of a father.

 

“I know, I know.” Naruto replies, not really in the mood to be lectured. Itachi's the one who asked him to do this in the first place! If he had his way, he'd still be lying in bed!

 

Itachi tuts, shaking his head. “Do you?” He quips lightly, before his face changes into something dark and complicated. He pauses, collecting himself before he speaks next.

 

Then quieter he says, in a voice so haunted that it sends shivers down Naruto's spine: “No matter what happens, it's _not_ your fault.”

 

Naruto can only nod grimly, swallowing down a large lump in his throat.  He hates that they're all expecting the worse but can't bear to speak of it. There's only a heavy tension that shudders around them, making them avert their eyes and gnaw at their lips, but ultimately they'll say nothing.

 

Just like always.

 

The older man doesn't linger long. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes still glued to Naruto like he wants to say something more before he thinks better of it. He turns on his heel and approaches Sasuke, whispering something to him that only he can hear.

 

Neji gently grips Naruto's wrist to get his attention. The strange, vacant look from earlier is back and Naruto shifts uncomfortably at the sight of it.

 

They didn't get to talk about anything said back at the summit. Naruto wants to know how Neji feels about what is expected of them, but the afternoon was a flurry of finalized plans and orders, so he never got the chance to ask. Sasuke was too busy hanging onto his father's every word, so he didn't get the opportunity to speak with him, either. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

 

“Are you okay?” He asks before Neji can get a word out, concern coloring his tone. It's rare for Neji to be distracted or dispirited, so Naruto can't help but think this is something serious.

 

Neji sighs, closing his eyes briefly and shaking his head. “I'm tired.” He mumbles softly. Such heavy meaning behind such simple words. Naruto's sure that he's referring to more than just the day.

Neji crowds into his space, holding his gaze so deeply that it nearly makes Naruto flinch.  “You don't have to do this, you know. There's still time to walk away. You don't owe us anything.”

 

Naruto said something similar before, didn't he? Strange, how that statement would come back to haunt him. He's not sure of the validity of those words anymore, since he's found more and more reason why they're untrue.

 

He owes his mother, since she held up their house alone for so long, giving him the time he needed away from this place. He owes his family, for the blood they spilled when acting as his shield. He's only alive today because they took the fatal blows meant for him.

 

He owes himself, because he's only ever run away when things got tough, and there's nowhere left that he can call safe—not with his home gone, not with his ruined thoughts, not even the house that he lived in with his father, since that too is absent it's owner tonight.

 

“I know I don't,” Naruto says softly, even though it feels like a lie. “But I'm going anyway.”

 

Neji smiles ruefully, ducking his head. The grip he has on Naruto's arm tightens until it's almost painful before he lets go. “I knew you'd say that.”

 

The look in his eyes nearly breaks Naruto's heart, and he's never been so glad for someone to interrupt.

 

Itachi and his men are gone, and Shikamaru and the others have already started walking up ahead. Only Sasuke hangs back, watching sidelong as Neji and Naruto have their quiet conversation. Naruto wonders how much he heard before he's calling out:

 

“C'mon.” He beckons them forward with a wave of his hand, an odd look on his face that Naruto can't hope to decipher. “It's time.”

 

Neji sighs heavily before stepping forward, sparing Naruto one last wistful glance before he moves away. Naruto feels rooted to the spot; he is made of lead, something dark and dreadful climbing up his throat in the worst of ways. He shakes himself and forces himself forward, using both of their backs as a beacon to convince himself to keep moving.

 

As usual, he can do nothing but follow.

* * *

 

Kidomaru is a hard man to pin down.

 

Even though they have a fairly good idea of where he usually lingers, it still takes a bit of digging to find exactly where he’s holed up tonight. His secrets are well hidden, but everyone has a price.

 

Money is what makes his life so interesting, earned by doing the dirty work of a rotten man; crowds part for him as he passes like way of the Old Testament. All the planes are private, the “friends” are plenty, and enforcers melt from dark corners when the commoners get too close.  

 

He lives the party life almost every night, surrounded by his hired muscle and a slimy entourage that stays for the money and girls in place of genuine affection and camaraderie.

 

Kidomaru loves to be at its center so that’s where they find him; he’s sitting on the outdoor patio of a local hotspot, throwing his head back at his own jokes while palming the nearest girl’s breast as she teeters uncomfortably. He calls her a slut in front of all the men around him and they all cackle at her discomfort.

 

They’re all drunk, which will make this easier.

 

Some of the partygoers notice the tide of Uchiha as they approach, catching sight of their matching jackets and matching expressions. Naruto sees their  faces pale like ghosts, but no one immediately gives them away to the blissfully unaware Kidomaru as he laughs the night away.

 

They know better than to get involved.

 

Instead, they quietly retreat in the opposite direction— careful not to run so they don't draw attention to themselves—but power-walking swiftly like their life depends on it. It will in a moment, so they have the right idea.

 

Shikamaru takes on last drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it on the pavement. He snuffs it out with the toe of his boot before looking to Sasuke, quietly asking:

 

“Ready?”

 

Sasuke smirks, eyes as black as coal when he replies: “Always.”

 

Kiba grins, cracking his fingers before he slides on a pair of brass knuckles. He flexes his knuckles experimentally to test their mobility. “No rules, right?”

 

Sasuke nods while reaching for the piece in his waistband, checking it one more time to make sure it’s ready to go. He doesn’t put it away after his inspection, instead leaving it cocked and down at his side.

 

“You heard my father,” He says simply, “He wants this finished by morning. We have no choice but to get a little wild.”

 

That’s as good an answer as any, Naruto guesses. Their deadline leaves no room for mercy.

 

A complicated expression  passes over Sasuke’s face then, and he opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, much to everyone’s confusion.

 

“What?” Choji questions lightly, looking at him carefully like he's unsure what to expect.

 

(They never are, in all honesty)

 

Sasuke sighs deeply as if he’s gathering his resolve, biting his lip in uncharacteristic nervousness.  He looks to Naruto first underneath his lashes, before quickly looking away.

 

Then he's addressing all of them when he says:  “I know you’re all thinking it, but I’m not going to allow myself to get...like _that_ tonight. We can’t afford to fuck this up, especially not because of me.”

 

He pauses, staring out into the night to avoid looking at anyone. “I’m going to make sure things are different from now on. None of you should have to walk on eggshells around me. It never should have been like that and I promise that you won't have to worry anymore.”

 

Everyone blinks in surprise, poorly hiding the fact that they were worried about just that. The others immediately brighten at his words, the unspoken fear they all felt diminishing slightly.

 

“I just felt like I needed to say it before we do this, but I won't waste anymore time.”

 

Something clears on Neji’s face like the sun peeking through clouds at Sasuke’s words. He’s been watching Sasuke like a hawk and is still rightfully wary, but hope pushes through just enough for him to lose some of the tension in his body. He claps Sasuke on the shoulder tightly and they share a look that speaks volumes.

 

Naruto smiles softly, nodding at Sasuke as a swell of warmth blooms in his chest. He knows that such a promise is all but empty—it’s impossible to just _will away_ mental illness, after all—but the fact that Sasuke acknowledges that he wants to change so openly in front of the others makes Naruto believe that maybe, just maybe, he won’t be trapped in the darkness much longer.

 

“That’s great, chief.” Kiba says gently. Usually he’d crack a joke whenever things get too serious, but he knows better than to minimize a moment as monumental as this.

 

Sasuke grumbles, obviously feeling a little shy after his declaration. “Let’s go.”

 

The others put their game faces on, nodding grimly as they prepare themselves for that they’re about to do. Naruto tries desperately not to lose his nerve—it’s too late to back out, if he ever truly could. He already told Neji that he _has_ to do this, already convinced himself over and over that he’s not too weak to see this through.

 

Itachi told him that it was alright to just witness, so he doesn’t have to kill anyone himself. He barely has to do anything at all. He can handle that.  

 

Yeah, because watching his friends do it is _so much better, right?_

 

Too late to protest now. It was already far too late this morning, just as it was a week ago. It’s been too late for years, and the fate of the Yakushi was sealed as soon as they stepped foot in Konoha for the first time. They just didn’t know it yet.

 

It was never going to end any other way.

 

They fan out, climbing the stairs of the patio two at time in loose formation. Sasuke stays centered, casually strolling up to Kidomaru's table like he has all the time in the world.

 

Naruto catches the attending waiter as he passes, grabbing his arm tightly and whispering: “Get out of here.” In the most serious voice he can muster. The man stares back at him with wide, frightened eyes—not understanding at first, but he only has to look down to see the fan sewn into Naruto's sleeve before realization floods into his system, all at once.

 

He doesn't need to be told twice.

 

Kidomaru turns his head with his mouth open. He was about to yell something to that same waiter, obnoxiously demanding another drink. The words die on his tongue when he sees who's standing in front of him.

 

He blinks stupidly, mind too addled by the alcohol in his system to fully understand what he’s seeing right away. His breath catches at the sight of Sasuke; a quick intake of air that almost sounds like choking, eyes expanding and brows furrowing in an almost sweetly confused way, like he’s not sure how this can be happening.

 

“Fuck!” He nearly shouts, scrambling up and reaching for the gun at his waist. His fingers slip once, twice before he manages to grip it in a weak attempt to defend himself.

 

It's not nearly quick enough.

 

Sasuke raises his arm up almost like a salute, leveling his glock so it's aimed perfectly between Kidomaru's ribs. There's barely any cruelness in Sasuke's gaze—no dark malice or a misplaced sense of victory—when he fires two rounds into his chest. There's only a quiet resolve because this simply has to be done. His eyes remain clear and focused, unblinking as the others charge forward around him.

 

Kidomaru stumbles, hands absently reaching for his wounds. Naruto sees his wrist go limp, sending his gun clattering to the ground. His eyes are wide with horror and shock as blood bubbles from his mouth in one long, syrupy drip; it curves down his chin to meet the blossoms of red-stained flowers on his chrisp, white shirt.

 

He falls to his knees like he's praying, a flailing arm catching a tablecloth on it's way down. Wine glasses hit the wooden planks, smashing on impact as Kidomaru sways back and forth, eyes fluttering as the life begins to leave him.

 

The pulsing music stops abruptly in a record scratch kind of way. It would no doubt make Naruto laugh in any other situation, but his attention is too fixed on what's unfolding in front of him.

 

The sudden rush thundering of feet is deafening as the partygoers scream and run for cover. They knock over tables and chairs in their haste, climbing over the railing of the patio with shaking legs and sweaty palms.

 

A woman faints, dropping like a lead weight where she stands. Kiba hurdles over her expertly, the steel on his knuckles glittering gold underneath the patio's bobbing string lights. He raises his fist to smash against the nearest enforcer's face and a faucet's worth of blood springs out of the man's nose instantly. He goes down hard with Kiba on top of him.

 

The sound of metal meeting flesh, again and again—

 

And again and again and _again and—_

 

Is loud and wet; a sickening, unnatural sound that is certainly hard to stomach. A cowering man nearby covers his mouth in horror, bodily flinching when the final, resounding _crack_ that follows echoes up to his ears. Kiba stands, victorious, charging like a bull to finish off another.

 

One of Kidomaru's men rushes at Choji with a yell, brandishing a gun that he foolishly doesn't try to use until he's up close. Choji easily disarms him by twisting his wrist back until the man yelps in pain, kicking the gun away so that it slides underneath a table. He uses his other hand to reach for his own weapon.

 

Choji's knife is short but serrated. Full of jagged edges like a shark's white teeth. He plunges it deep into the man's chest in rapid succession—a flurry of strikes, quick like a blink—twisting it with each thrust until blood spills over his hand and covers it like a glove. He guides the man down by his neck onto the ground and leaves him there to leak, already moving to the next attacking force that runs up from his right.

 

Neji has always been an opportunist. He uses the environment to his advantage, if the chance arises. The shattered glass on the ground presents itself as such; the halved stems of the wine glasses point upward, and Neji only has to sweep out the feet of his target, sending him tumbling down to land face first onto the shards.

 

The man rises with a guttural, gut-wrenching yell, clawing at his face as red zigzags down from his cuts. Neji calmly grabs the back of his hair and holds him in place, staring out blankly into the night as the man struggles fruitlessly and gasps for air. Neji’s gaze sharpens into something calculating before he drags his mark up to the nearest table and smashes his neck against it lightning quick, crushing his trachea with expert accuracy.

 

Naruto doesn't see Shikamaru take down two of the guards. He's too busy watching the others— eyes lingering on Neji without meaning to. He looks over after the fact and sees them lying in a pool of their own making, weakly twitching as the light leaves their eyes.

 

Naruto shivers despite the warm air surrounding them—equally awestruck and intimidated because his friend's moves were too quick to be witnessed or anticipated, like always.

 

Mere moments before it's over, but it felt like hours. Mere moments for fate to decide the victor. He only felt a second's worth of concern for his friends—they could be hurt or killed being on the offensive like this, after all. But he should have known better.

 

It was never going to end any other way.

 

Sasuke makes his way forward through all the commotion, weaving around bodies and overturned tables so he can stand over Kidomaru as he wheezes from his place of the ground.

 

There's a crowd forming on the street, watching them. The people — neighbors, shopkeepers, the random faces that couldn't help their curiosity, or maybe they just couldn't run fast enough—They're staring. They look horrified, scandalized, deeply disturbed and afraid. But none of them move. None of them try to help. They stare and cover their mouths with their hands, but no one's willing to get involved.

 

Because they're afraid they'll be next, when Sasuke's done.

 

Not this time, though.

 

This time, it's just business.

 

(This is not a game of wrong or right. Of what's fair and what's not. There will only be a winner and a loser. It's as simple as that.)

 

Kidomaru looks up—the fear of God in his eyes, black fear and red-hot pain turning his face an array of colors— and then he laughs. Loud, booming laughter that ends in a wracking cough, blood and spittle flying out to land on Sasuke's shoes.

 

“I knew this would happen,” Kidomaru rasps, shaking his head in bitter disappointment. “Too fucking far, this time. He didn't listen to me.”

 

He hisses, closing his eyes against the wave of pain that hits him like a freight train.

 

“Get on with it, then!” He shouts, grinning up at Sasuke because that's all he can do. He accepted his fate long ago, when he signed up for this job. He flings his arms out spread eagle and waits for death, still proud up until his last moment, never begging or losing face once.

 

Sasuke grants his wish, leveling his gun between Kidomaru's eyes without another word and firing once, ending it.

 

...

…

…

 

Silence, of the heavy sort. There's a palatable tension that rises between them like it always does after a fight, when they're faced with the aftermath. Naruto stands with his brothers as they survey the scene, offering no comfort or pointless words. He could not bring himself to speak right now if his life depended on it

 

Bodies litter the patio—twisted in death and riddled with wounds. Tables are flipped up like shields, all their contents flung to far corners, speckled red with both blood and wine.  The string lights break loose from the canopy and fall, flickering once before going out, plunging them into darkness.

 

There are sirens in the distance—a formality, since Asuma has already told his boys to look the other way until this is over. The townspeople still expect them to come when called though, as not to reveal how owned they are.

 

Naruto can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. It's over faster than he expected. He's not sure why he thought it'd be some long, drawn out thing. He forgot who he was dealing with, honestly.

 

Naruto cannot help the way his blood sings in his veins, a strange sort of satisfaction coming to him in waves. He does not relish in this violence, but he cannot lie and pretend like some part of him doesn't... appreciate it.

 

(He is a wolf, too, after all. Secretly now, but a wolf all the same.)

 

He sees the glow in the other's eyes as they understand the same thing he does in this moment: Orochimaru's men have always seemed like untouchable boogeymen, but they can die just like any man around here—choking and gasping with his back to the ground and his face pointed up at the sky.

 

There is no time to dwell on it, since they'll be seeing much more soon. Kidomaru is only one cog in the machine, and the night is wasting to find the rest of them. They still have much to do before the sun rises, as Fugaku expects them to, so they have to get a move on.

 

Shikamaru makes his rounds once, making sure that the men they've killed actually stay down. He checks for pulses and listens for hollow breaths, but there are none to be found.

 

“Good,” Sasuke says, nodding once. He slides his gun back into his waistband and readies to leave. “Let's go.”

 

Naruto releases a breath, turning away from the dark scene in front of him. Sometimes rustles behind him—a small sound that might escape his notice if he wasn't so trained to hear such things. The others are already moving in the opposite direction with quick strides so they don't seem to hear it.

 

“Naruto?” Neji questions, making his way back when he notices that Naruto isn't following. Naruto holds his hand up to silence him, listening hard to see if he's mistaken.

 

He turns, looking to the source of the sound. It comes from behind one of the upturned tables. The table cloth that still manages to cling to it is quivering so Naruto knows that someone is behind it.

 

He sees eyes staring out at him—the girl's glasses are eskew and her face is stained with tears. She peeps out to check if the coast is clear, scrambling back when she realizes that it isn't. They both flinch at the sight of each other. Recognition floods in her eyes and she gasps at the same time Naruto does.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

The girl from the alley.

 

The redhead who tased Zabuza and just barely escaped Naruto's grasp. The one who knowingly lured the girls into Orochimaru's trap. This was the last place he expected to see her, since it hadn't crossed his mind that they'd run into each other again

 

She must be in deeper with the Yakushi than Naruto initially thought.  Probably a child of the clan, or an overzealous recruit.

 

She must see his face change—going from startled surprise to something...else. He isn't sure what—because in the next moment she's shaking her head frantically, begging with her eyes not to ratted out and killed.

 

Naruto could easily let her go. Pretend he didn't see. He's done enough of that, what's a little more? She's young, only a little older than Konohamaru, but not by much. She's probably no one important. No rank to speak of.

 

Hell, maybe she's in over her head, maybe she was forced to do what she did under the threat of being sold herself if she didn't. Maybe she needs money to help her family or something like that, so she'll go to extreme lengths to do it. Maybe she'd learn her lesson after seeing something like this and get out of the life for good. So many maybes, but—

 

“Sasuke,” Naruto hears himself call tonelessly. Sasuke pauses, turning back to look at Naruto with question in his eyes.

 

Naruto points at the table without breaking eye contact with her. He swallows heavily before he speaks, his voice nearly a whisper when he says:

“We missed one.”

 

She isn't innocent and he isn't, either. So there's that.

 

The girl wails, crawling back on her hands to retreat further behind the table. Pointless, she must know, but she's going to try anyway. Scared as she is, she's going to try anyway.  

 

Sasuke sighs and quietly reaches for his gun. He doesn't bother moving closer— only firing once, twice, and a third time in her direction, just to be sure. It feels like overkill, but it leaves no room for mistake. She goes down with a hard, echoing thump.

 

She does not get up again.

 

Naruto checks her body, feeling cold and distant in his own skin. No pulse. No movement. Her eyes are open and unseeing as they face the sky, lips parted forever in a silent scream.

 

Naruto nods in Sasuke's direction as he watches on for confirmation. Neji waits for him at the bottom of the stairs, face eerily blank as he offering his hand. Naruto gladly takes it.

 

He can't be sure which one of them is shaking.  

 

They hurry to rejoin the others, rushing on to their next hunt.

 

…

 

 _Eradication_.

 

This is no time for mercy.

 


	11. Eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway there's violence in this chapter. A LOT of violence, but you guys know that already. Enjoy!

 

 

* * *

**11.**

“They are hunting the Queen. Is she hiding, is she eating honey? She is very clever. She is old, old, old, she must live another year, and she knows it.”

 

—Sylvia Plath,

_The Bee Meeting_

* * *

 

**A.**

 

There's a powerful sect of the Yakushi that calls themselves the Followers of Jashin. Their god has many faces, as well as an affinity for violence and self-flagellation. They are cult-like in their devotion and devastation—secret rituals are held in the dead of night, drowned in blood and _other things_ , and nearly all of its 200 members live in one large warehouse that has long since been converted into makeshift apartments.

 

Jashin demands sacrifice. He demands death and offerings and damnation of his enemies, which works well for his followers, since they populate the pool of  Orochimaru's favorite hitmen.

 

The building isn't very big or well fortified. There are only five stories and three sets of steel double doors line the front side. There's a fire escape on the right side—the ladders that fall from the balconies are rusty and barely reach the ground. The backdoor isn't much of a door at all; it used to be a loading bay for deliveries, it's automated controls broken from years of disuse, so now it can only be opened manually.

 

(These Followers of Jashin must not expect for anyone to be foolish enough to attack them because of their reputation. That's still no excuse to live in such squalor.)

 

Just because they came from the dirt doesn't mean they have to wallow in it, Itachi thinks. He couldn't imagine thinking his reputation alone would keep all the bold little shits in this volatile city from trying to rearrange his guts when given the chance. Such a foolish and costly mistake, to be so arrogant and overconfident, but that's neither here nor there.

 

This is war, Itachi reminds himself. It won't matter soon what they believe or don't. He doesn't have the time to teach them about good business practices even though he's itching to.

 

Kisame returns from the backside of the building with Sasori on his heels, both nodding sharply to Itachi in confirmation that the preparations are complete.

 

"There's only one way out the back, just like you said." Kisame reports, taking his place beside Itachi and crossing his arms.

 

Of course it is. Itachi's intelligence network never fails him, nor his intuition. He all but owns the grapevine around here, and Konoha's rumor mill is quite the force to be reckoned with. But such things don't always need to be said, so he'll refrain from mentioning it.

 

"You've secured it." Itachi replies flatly, not phrasing it like a question since it shouldn't be one.

 

"Of course." Kisame says easily, tipping his head in acknowledgement. "Nagato's men have taken their positions. We're ready when you are."

 

Itachi's never been one of refuse freely offered aid. The Akatsuki Clan said they'd lend them boots on the ground and he'd be a fool not to take them up on that. They're reliable allies and even more capable soldiers, so he's pleased by their readiness.

 

(He's still upset that there was no time to iron out any kinks in his plan. Fugaku really dropped the ball by demanding they do this tonight. Luckily, Itachi always has ideas up his sleeve but this one isn't as well thought out as he'd like. A little warning would have been nice.)

 

In truth, he'd prefer to have Sasuke and Neji at his side for this but he'll take what he can get. It's rare for him to personally get his hands dirty as the heir apparent for the Uchiha Clan, even rarer still that he gets to do it with his brothers.

 

(He wouldn't have been able to convince either of them, he knows. They wanted to have their own stage tonight just as he did. Not to mention that Naruto's with them and he promised that he wouldn't torment that boy more than he already has. There will be no _watching_ here, no hands-off approach. Only blood. It's as simple as that.)

 

Still, there's a bit of soreness that comes with such thoughts. He's always been a background character when it comes to the three of them, never getting to run the streets and terrorize the city at the same time they did. He's left to endlessly worry about what's happening to them when they're out of his sight. He hears of their exploits after the fact, hiding his own bitter smiles at their rambunctiousness and togetherness since he was too busy carrying out the "business" side of their ambitious clan to come along.

 

(Even still, he knows that Sasuke's jealous of him for being in charge of "paperwork" and having their father's ear. But Itachi's jealous of him too, since Sasuke gets to run wild and only rarely has to worry about appearances or propriety.)

 

Is it fair for either of them to think this way? Maybe, maybe not. It's not like Sasuke doesn't have his share of hardships, especially when he loses sight of himself. It's not like Itachi doesn't get tired of Fugaku seeing him as a project instead of person. But Itachi's never worried much about what's fair.

 

It was never fair that they weren't given a choice of what they wanted, or what they wanted to be. They were born into molds and now they expertly fill them. That's all, that's it. There's no need to explore the topic further. He accepted it long ago.  Itachi doesn't waste time thinking about it, since nothing will come from endless pondering. He surprises himself by doing so at a time like this.

 

That's probably Naruto's influence, if he's being honest. Something about him sends Itachi into a looping tunnel of self-reflection. Maybe it's due to guilt, since he's never forgiven himself for asking Naruto to sacrifice himself for Sasuke and leaving him in charge of his well being for so long. Or maybe bitterness? He was just as hurt as the others when Naruto left and, even if he understood his reasoning, he couldn't reconcile his logic with his feelings. His heart screamed of betrayal while his mind whispered his understanding.

 

Maybe it's neither of those things. Maybe it's the love Itachi feels for him as a brother and a friend, and all the mistakes he's made over the years are always written all over Naruto's face just like the scars that line his cheeks. Itachi understands that, he wholly and truly does, so looking deep into his eyes shakes something loose in Itachi that he thought he'd long since buried.

 

That's as good as explanation as any, but Itachi forces his mind elsewhere. There's no time. He's a little busy, here.

 

Like a light switch, he shuts himself off. He becomes a proper stone in an instant; unblinking and unflinching, preserving his spirit despite the terrible things he's going to do. It feels like falling in a well, even after all this time—the inky blackness is comforting as he dives towards the endless fall, never quite reaching the bottom.

 

(What would happen when he finally did, he wonders absently, right before the void overtakes him.)

 

Sasori checks the chains that hang off the front doors once more, making sure they don't budge. After a few experimental tugs he's satisfied, even though it barely shows on his face. Itachi only knows because he sees only the slightest twitch in his features. He knows what to look for after years of dealing with the stoic man, so he can even see the excitement in his eyes at the prospect of violence to come.

 

There are no secret cues for Deidara. He's openly grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet, itchy for action since it's honestly been too long since the lot of them have been set loose like this. Kisame couldn't care either way, but that's to be expected. He only cares about Itachi's well being, not bothering to think of anything else. It's both endearing and sightly concerning but it's been this way since they were kids.

 

(Itachi's talents are more suitable for this group anyway. He is not merciful, like Naruto. Not reckless, like Sasuke. Not a subtle strange mix of the two, like Neji. He is ruthless and calculating and maybe a bit unhinged, even though he does quite a good job of hiding it. The company he keeps is just plain insane, so he doesn't have the need to pretend with them.)

 

The static of his walkie-talkie _crackles_ at his side, Nagato's deep voice rumbling over the airway a moment later.

 

"Ready?" He asks lowly. The chorus of guns cocking can be heard before the crackling cuts out.

 

Itachi nods to himself, eyeing the steel doors one last time before he takes a few steps back from the front of the building. Kisame follows as well as Sasori, Deidara is the only one who holds his position.

 

"Don't stand too close," Itachi informs him. Nagato chuckles in his ear, a pleasant rumble that is somehow as light as it is sinister.

 

"I know, I know." He replies around a laugh. "On your cue."

 

"Deidara." Itachi calls, cutting his eyes to the other man. Deidara looks at him, eyes alight and grin sliding wider. He nods enthusiastically and levels the rocket launcher on his shoulder as he drops to one knee—an RPG-7, military grade since that's what Deidara _used_ to be— while whistling a jaunty tune under his breath that probably shouldn't be as horrifying as it is.

 

He turns his head to wink at Itachi right before he fires, his manic grin splitting his face in half as he jams his finger on the trigger. The gunpowder explodes theatrically, a cloud of light grey-blue smoke puffing out of the spent barrel as a giant crater fills and forms near the center, revealing the night sky on the other side of the building.

 

All the windows blow outward as the third floor goes up in a spectacular rain of fire. They purposefully aimed there, since that's where the Followers keep most of their stockpiled weapons. That assumption seems to be right on the money because a few seconds after the initial blast, two or three smaller ones fire off in rapid succession—bombs cooked to completion due to the sudden heat.

 

Itachi removes his hands from his ears at the same time the others do, nodding to Deidara as he stands back to his full height.

 

Itachi moves back to his prior position, standing shoulder to shoulder with his brothers, waiting patiently as the building in front of them burns red-hot.

 

He knows those blasts won't have killed everyone inside. A good deal of them probably have perished, but he'd never be foolish enough to leave it up to chance. This is certainly not a time for ifs and maybes.   _Eradication_ , his father said, his brothers agreed to, so he will make sure that their will is carried out.

 

An alarm sounds from inside, shrill like a scream, and a cacophony of yelling voices rise up over the sound of sparking wires and crackling flames.

 

Itachi sees a handful of panicked figures running past some of the darkened windows on the fourth floor, headed towards the fire escape. He follows them with his eyes, raising his walkie to his mouth with his finger hovering over the button. He waits until he thinks most of them have made it to the door before he pressed down to signal Nagato and his men.

 

"Heads up." He says simply, eyes snapping back forward.

 

"We see them," Nagato replies before he cuts out. The sound of gunfire rises from around the side a moment later, the Akatsuki expertly picking off any and everyone who threw open the emergency exits in the hopes of escape. The sounds of agonized screams floats faintly to his ears, but Itachi ignores them.

 

Hands frantically beat against the three sets of steel front doors, tugging at the handles that can no longer be opened from the inside. Itachi watches the chains rattle fruitlessly, holding position even as the shaking and rattling gets louder and louder.  Someone begins to throw their shoulder against the middle set of doors, a stuttered _thump, thump, thump_ that sounds painful in its intensity.

 

"Kisame." Itachi calls sharply, blinking against the falling embers that float around them. Kisame nods without turning his head, signalling to the Uchiha foot soldiers stationed by the door. They are only armed with bolt cutters, cutting through the swinging chains on each door quickly before stepping back and and arming themselves with something far heavier.

 

The men beating against the doors must think themselves victorious in that moment, pushing and pushing until the chains finally give way under the weight of their frantic determination. They burst forth out of their cages in a flood—their horror filled, soot-covered expressions melting into relief once the warm night air hits them.

 

At the same time, Itachi raises his sub-machine gun to waist level while Kisame and the others follow suit. The soldiers by the doors ready themselves, flanking any means of escape, fully prepared to hold the line no matter the cost.

 

There's only a moment's worth of pause in between. The men stumble forward—some armed, most not—still blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits them as the fire raging above makes it almost too bright to see clearly.

 

Itachi locks eyes with the man who stumbles out of the middle door first. He knows of him like he knows most of the Yakushi: in passing, butting heads often enough that they at least know each other's names. Hidan he's called, the de facto leader of this outfit even though Orochimaru holds the reins. A cruel, compassionless man who's famous on these streets. He is usually cocky, loud and boastful regardless of the situation, but the blood on his sleeve and the burn marks on his face seem to rob him of his voice.

 

Hidan's darting eyes widen at the sight in front of him—Itachi swears that he gasps, but he couldn't hope to hear it. He sees the fear and regret in his eyes rise like the tide. In that moment, they're aware of the same thing: Hidan allied with the wrong group, shared cups with the wrong master. It was always going to end like this, with his back against the wall and his blood swirling down the sidewalk drain. That's the only fitting end of their kind—no way out, except death.

 

And even that would not come easy.

 

Itachi and his men open fire in unison, mowing down each scrambling Jashinite that are not quick enough to defend themselves. They go down with choked cries in seconds. Hidan is ripped open by a spray of bullets, falling backwards like a cardboard cutout knocked over by the wind.

 

Itachi holds his gun steadily, unblinking as member after member falls under the weight of his bullets. Deidara's laughing as he shoots, hooting as he aims for their heads. Sasori grins in a way that sends a shiver down Itachi's spine, so he's careful not to look at him. Kisame has never been as open with his cruelty like the other two—his face is blank and his aim is true, but there's a glow in his eyes that says he's definitely enjoying himself.

 

It's over in minutes.

 

Silence rises like fog while smoke blankets the air thickly. A bright red plume dances towards the sky as the building burns and begins to collapse in on itself, the wood too charred to hold anymore. Fire trucks scream in the distance, no doubt speeding towards their location.

 

Itachi slowly lowers his gun until it's pointed at the ground and surveys the scene. Only smoldering, after, along with a disgusting mess of blood and viscera of what once used to be a proud clan.

 

Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan rejoin them, confirming that they've taken care of any stragglers on the other side of the building. Their men sustained a few injuries, but nothing too serious. The three of them give Itachi careful, disquieted looks from the sides of their eyes that he pretends he doesn't see.

 

Itachi sighs heavily; this was almost too easy, he thinks. Is it fucked up that he wanted more of a fight? Maybe. Sometimes he even surprises himself with how through his own plans can be.

 

(He's never gotten to do something on this scale before, though. It's almost too over the top for his tastes, but what's done is done.)

 

They take a slow lap around the perimeter of the building, finishing off any unlikely survivors who weakly attempt to drag themselves to safety. He encourages the others to be quick about it, since he doesn't want to be around when the first responders show up. Asuma gave them a pass to get rowdy tonight, but even he will question the rocket launcher with a raised eyebrow and a disapproving frown.

 

Itachi passes by Hidan before they depart, dropping down to his haunches next to the man. They've always had a healthy respect for each other, if not a bit of a rivalry. At least, that's what Hidan thinks; Itachi does not have any rivals or equals. Not out of pretentious cockiness or anything of the sort. He just doesn't, long since understanding that he's in a class of his own.

 

Hidan chokes on his own blood, not long for this world. The bullet holes in his chest almost resemble the holy beads that hang around his neck.

 

"I'll admit," He rasps with a weak sneer, shiny-white teeth speckled with red. "I didn't see that coming. You're something else, Uchiha."

 

Itachi says nothing, watching him blankly as he struggles to breathe. He feels nothing in this moment—not regret, not anger, not even hate or victory. Nothing, since he did what he had to. He always has. He wonders if he should be concerned about the complete fucking apathy he feels after a massacre like this, but his father always was an excellent teacher.

 

"Would you like me to finish it?" Itachi asks him tonelessly, not exactly sure why he's offering. A kindness in his eyes, since such wounds must be incredibly painful. Hidan stares at him wordlessly, eyes shimmering in the darkness. There's something to be said about the look on his face—a strange sense of comprehension maybe, like he understands that they both follow Gods of Doom and Death, and Itachi's deity inspires just as much devotion and self-destruction as his own.

 

That's why he only smiles and shakes his head, a strange light in his eyes that gives Itachi pause but he shakes the feeling away easily enough. Hidan has chosen to die only when Jashin allows. Honorable maybe, or just another stupid way to prolong his suffering since apprently Hidan likes that kind of thing.

 

Either way, Itachi won't go against his wishes, even if  he feels like rolling his eyes in the face of his stubbornness. Instead he stands with a sigh to goes to rejoin the others. He hears Hidan's breath stutter and cease as he walks away a few moments later, so it matters not.

 

Itachi checks his watch absently, noting the time. Still fairly early, as this took less time than he thought. He's pleased with himself for being ahead of schedule. Or at least, he thinks he is: he's not sure if he's feeling much of anything right now.

 

He allows his thoughts to wander again, now that he's finished, wondering how Sasuke and the others are doing.

 

(Flickering, like an old flashlight that needs new batteries. He imagines himself hitting it a few times until the light shines fully. For absolutely no reason at all, he swears he hears an engine sputtering to life.)

 

Since he is ahead of schedule, does he have time to call and check on them? No, probably not. He might not get an answer since they're all in the middle of something anyway, and he's sure they wouldn't appreciate his fretfulness. Regardless, concern twisting his lips into a slight frown and Kisame looks at him sidelong with an unreadable look.

 

"What?" He questions, frowning deeper.

 

Kisame chuckles lightly, eyes knowing. "Nothing, nothing." He assures, laughing a little harder when Itachi rolls his eyes.

* * *

 

**  
B.**

 

A month ago, If you would have told Minato that this is how he'd be spending his weekend, he would have laughed in your face.

 

Him? Back in _Konoha_ of all places? Smoothing over years of unresolved issues and painstakingly plotting demises? Absolutely absurd and laughable.

 

But of course he came back. It wasn't like he could ignore Kushina's hysterical midnight call, could he? Of course not. Her words had been little more than hiccuping sobs, a jumbled mess of pleading prayers that barely left time for him to throw on his shoes before he was flying out of the door with keys in hand.

 

He'll never regret being there for her. He'll never regret being able to sit by his son's bedside as he recovered. That's the least he could do, after everything. After being away so long that he almost forgot his way home.

 

It is only him and Fugaku in the compound's private study at the moment, awaiting word from their children as they carry out their orders.

 

The women are elsewhere—Mikoto is still awake despite the lateness of the hour, stress-cooking to take her mind off of what's happening out on the streets. She's always done that when the going got tough, and Minato full expects to have plenty of pastries to choose from when morning comes. Kushina sits in the kitchen with her, meticulously organizing all the tea bags by color and size while taste-testing her creations, offering words of comfort that she knows will do no good.

 

Minato understands their unease. He himself is twitchy and itchy where he sits, not used to sitting on the sidelines as they are now.  He is ready for action, but it isn't time for their scene yet. Fugaku's done so well setting the stage that Minato can't bring himself to complain. Outwardly, at least.

 

They are merely props in the background this time, only to become leads when the finale comes. He understands being second string for this one: their hay day has long-since passed. It is almost time to pass on the torch to their successors. That's not to say that they are not still forces to be reckoned with, not still beasts of burden for this clan. But Fugaku's trained his boys well, for better or worse, so now that his steps are slower and his hair grayer he'll let them play their roles.

 

"Any word?" Fugaku asks quietly, staring out of his study window into the night, hands clasped firmly behind his back. If he is as anxious as the rest of them are, he doesn't show it.

 

Not that he expected him to.

 

Minato can recall seeing him like this many times before. In fact, over the years—whenever his thoughts tended to stray back towards his friend, despite the ache that accompanied it— that's the only way he remembers him; stern, silent, with a dark sense of foreboding that drapes over Fugaku's shoulders and curves around his arms like the cape of a king. He's always wore his strength right on his sleeves, and Minato's never been ashamed to openly admire it.

 

"Naruto says it's done," He replies evenly, absently fiddling with his phone as the message _pings_ across his screen, The relief he feels is palpable, but he can't celebrate just yet. "They're headed to find Tayuya now."

 

Fugaku nods slowly, a slight smirk gracing his face for the briefest of moments, but it's gone as quickly as it came.

 

"Itachi?" He questions, even though he surely knows the answer already.

 

Itachi's report comes on que, as if he knew his father would be asking at that exact moment. There's always been something almost eerie about Itachi, the way he's so frighteningly good at everything—half as angry as his father but twice as efficient and ruthless. It scares Minato a little bit, but he's never voiced such thoughts and he doesn't know how to articulate them clearly without it sounding like an insult.

 

"Flawless and on schedule. You knew that." Minato reports, nearly rolling his eyes when his friend chuckles. Like it was ever going to be any different.

 

"....And Sasuke?" Fugaku asks carefully after a moment. voice betraying nothing. His face doesn't change and his voice remains even, but Minato knows he's greatly anticipating the answer.

 

Minato bites down a sigh before he answers, and old churning in his gut that he hates clawing at the corners.

 

"Nothing happened," He replies softly to Fugaku's stiff back. He doesn't imagine the way his shoulders drop for the briefest of moments, free to _feel_ when there is no one around to watch.

 

"Good." Fugaku mumbles without turning around. Minato doesn't have to see his face to know that he's unspeakably relieved.

 

It's always been like this, and Minato hates it. Despite the agony it brings them all, he cannot persuade Fugaku to stop using Sasuke as his personal battering ram. Even though he fears the consequences, even though he dreads how all this could end, he is convinced that Sasuke is best suited for the dirty work.

 

He would not be able to convince Sasuke either, to finally stand up for himself. The boy fears that it's the only way that his father will pay attention to him. Sasuke never said the words, but the look on his face whenever his father's eyes are upon him say it loud enough.

 

(Even with all his knowledge and confidence, Minato isn't so sure that his line of thinking is wrong. That's probably the worst part.)

 

They never speak on the things that haunt them, despite their closeness. Minato isn't exactly sure why. All of their problems grew legs long ago and now walk around on their own, free for their owners hearts and minds, wreaking havoc on all the passersby.

 

Maybe it's cowardice on his part, since even he isn't spared from Fugaku's wrath when they step on such carefully hidden landmines like these. Maybe it's resentment, since he knows that the clan will always come first so he doesn't bother wasting his breath.

 

Maybe it's neither of those things. Maybe it's consideration, because he knows that he is Fugaku's safe place. Minato is the only one he doesn't have to pretend with. He does not have to be empty around him, or wise or strong.

 

(He doesn't have to be anything other than the boy that grew up with him, so long ago. Minato can still see their arms outstretched as they zigzagged down the block with shiny-new roller skates, crashing into a heap with hooting laughter. He can still see the fields they laid in until the sun went down, watching the clouds pass without a care in the world.)

 

Maybe they cannot bring up such painful things when they are together because they won't be able to stop once they start.

 

Otherwise he'd have to bring up how it still hurts to think of them. How he can still hear Hizashi's quiet laughter carrying on the wind or can still see Hiashi's smile in his breakfast spoons if he stares too hard.

 

Then they'd talk about how he always blamed himself because, when Orochimaru first rolled into town, it was Minato who convinced Fugaku to give him a chance.

 

(He thought maybe Orochimaru and his boys would easily fall into place just like the rest of the clans. They all managed to coexist at least somewhat peacefully, so there was no reason to drive him out when he hadn't _done_ anything yet, right? But he was wrong. He knows that. Hell, everyone does, even if they never said it aloud.)

 

He wouldn't be able to help himself from asking if things would have been different if he wasn't a half-assed pacifist. If he would have let Fugaku do what he was born to do. Would their friends still have died if Minato didn't hold Fugaku back? Does Fugaku secretly resent him for that?

 

Does he blame him, too?

 

He's never had the heart to ask.

 

So instead he asks, voice careful and light as not to set off fireworks: "Do you finally plan on talking to them, once this is all over?"

 

He'd meant to ease into more, but it seems he's had enough of holding his tongue. With the Yakushi gone, there won't be a constant plague on this house anymore that makes tiptoeing around these things easier. Minato still plans on returning home—he does not think he'll ever be able to come back to Konoha permanently. It simply will not happen—and he'd rather Fugaku not be left with nothing when the dust finally settles.

 

(He should have insisted on this ages ago, but he was far too wrapped up in his own sins to worry about anyone else's. Just one more thing to be guilty about.)

 

Fugaku pauses, silent for a moment as he gauges his meaning. He turns, looking at Minato with unreadable eyes.

 

"I don't know where to start." He admits after a while, shaking his head this way and that with a heavy sigh.

 

Minato doesn't believe that for a second. He knows Fugaku has thought about this just as much as he has. He shouldn't have to spell it out for him.

 

He could start with how he's doesn't think Sasuke to be weak because he's ill; Instead, Fugaku fears him at times and fears _for_ him, but avoiding talking about his issues and need for therapy isn't being a good leader or a good father. He could start by pulling his son close both literally and figuratively like he did in the past, instead of keeping a cold business-like relationship like they have now.

 

He could address Neji's resentments, for being twisting into a villain in his best friend's eyes because he was the only naysayer of Sasuke's bad behavior. For the lines blurring on his place in the clan—always held in high regard and touted as a true Uchiha, only to be pushed away and left waiting outside the door when Fugaku addressed only his sons. They could talk about the future of the Hyuga that rests solely on his shoulders.

 

Or Fugaku could begin with Itachi. The star pupil, his carbon copy. He never allowed the boy to be a child and saw him as something to be perfected. Does he know his favorite color? What he likes to do when he has a moment alone? Hobbies? Pet-peeves? Have the two of them once spoken about something that didn't relate to the Uchiha?

 

Does he see how ferocious that made Itachi, how empty his eyes are at times, how achingly lonely he is even though he is constantly surrounded by devoted followers?

 

Does he really want his son to suffer in the same way he did in his youth? Never truly having one, going on to become a stunted adult who continues this vicious cycle?

 

"I think you do," Minato says gently, raising an eyebrow.

 

Fugaku blinks at him, staring silently for so long that Minato almost rises from his chair to make sure his friend hasn't malfunctioned from trying to process so much emotion at once, but finally Fugaku sighs and closes his eyes, lip tilting upwards into a trace of a rueful smile. "You're right." He says quietly. "I hate when you're right."

 

Minato shrugs playfully. "I thought you'd be used to it, at this point." And they share a small laugh together.

 

Fugaku looks unsure, wiping his hands on his pant leg in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness.

 

"You... don't think it's too late, do you?" He asks earnestly, looking away quickly like meeting Minato's eyes burns. Or maybe he's just embarrassed, knowing he's needs to have a serious "feelings" talk with his boys if he doesn't want to get carted off to a nursing home when he's old(er), only visited once a year.

 

Minato thinks back to when Naruto arrived on his doorstep with fresh bandages on his cheeks and tears in his eyes, holding a bag in his shaking hands like he'd just run away from home. He remembers Naruto's apprehension and reluctance—the righteous anger he felt towards Minato for not being physically present in his life for so long. He remembers falling into each other's arms regardless, tears soaking their sleeves, remembers the way Naruto sat in his lap and cried for hours until he fell asleep and the way his watery smile looked when the morning came.

 

"It's alright," He mutters softly, taking Fugaku's hand and squeezing it. Fugaku's eyes are bright where they land on Minato's face, undisguised affection brimming in their corners. "You still have time."

* * *

 

**C.**

 

They find Tayuya of the Yakushi Clan right in the middle of the street, quite by accident.

 

Fate seems to throw them together, because they were definitely on the way to her private home nestled in the nicer part of the Northeast; a villa-style sprawl that reflects her status, full of pointed gates and frowning guards. Their forward march is halted by a red light of all things. Choji catches sight of her brightly colored hair through her car window by way of an expert trick of light.

 

She is one of Orochimaru's few generals, an "honor" not afforded to many because he doesn't extend that level of trust to just anyone.

 

It's a wonder how she managed to gain it so quickly and easily; she's only a few years older than Naruto and doesn't have half of the street experience, but somehow manages to hold down such a lofty position with no challengers. If the rumors are true then it makes perfect sense: word on the street is that she's the child of Orochimaru's old flame, and quite possibly his illegitimate child.

 

Naruto doubts the validity of that. Simply because, if Kabuto caught word that, she'd already be dead and they wouldn't have to do this. The man was intimidated by Suigetsu—who wasn't well suited for being an heir and barely a threat to his inheritance— but he tried to get rid of him anyway. If Orochimaru had a direct blood heir running around, Kabuto would lose his shit. There's no way something like that would escape his notice.

 

It happens because they're debating on whether to call a driver to retrieve them. Her house is a bit far from where they ambushed Kidomaru and it isn't wise to walk around on foot in Yakushi territory for long periods of time. They're hotly debating between a "company car" and an Uber— Naruto staunchly disagrees on the latter because he's almost positive their plans go against their terms and services, not to mention that they'll pay extra for an Uber XL— when Choji's eyes widen and he points to a car that's pulled up near them.

 

"Lucky~!" Kiba says excitedly, cracking his knuckles. Naruto feels that this is anything but.

 

Sasuke and Neji share a look, a quiet conversation happening between the two of them in moments. They nod in agreement, creating a makeshift plan on the fly since it seems they don't have a choice.

 

"Shikamaru, Kiba," Sasuke commands, tilting his head in the direction of the car. "Pretend to cross the street and then rush the left side." Shikamaru nods sharply and Kiba mirrors it, grinning at the prospect of action so soon after they just finished a hunt. "Choji, stay behind me and Neji. If anyone manages to get past us, you take them down. Clear?"

 

"Crystal." Choji replies, rolling his shoulders to relax them.

 

"Naruto…" Sasuke begins sternly, trailing off awkwardly when he realized that he's not really supposed to be commanding him, even though it should be all hands on deck in a situation like this. Naruto takes no offense, only shaking his head with a shrug. He won't be much use anyway since he's still sort of recovering, so all he says is: "I'll hang back out of the way. Don't worry about me."

 

Sasuke hesitates like he wants to say something more, but they don't have that kind of time. The street light could turn green at any moment and none of them are too keen on chasing the car down. So instead he nods with a lingering look before they spring into action.

 

Naruto watches the inhabitants of the vehicle carefully. There are two goons dressed in suits sitting in the front seats that haven't noticed the band of Uchiha yet. The driver taps out a steady beat on the steering wheel as he huffs about the ridiculously long red lights around here. The man in the passenger's seat stares out of his window, eyes scanning the sidewalk behind dark sunglasses. Too bad it's the driver's side that he needs to worry about.

 

Tayuya's sitting in the back right seat, chatting with someone sitting next to her. He can't see who's in the back left from his angle on the sidewalk, and that sets Naruto on edge.

 

Something isn't right. The windows aren't tinted like usual, and most of the top brass around here take limousines instead of civilian cars. Naruto has a bad feeling about this, but he doesn't get the chance to voice it before—

 

Shikamaru and Kiba pretend to cross the road just like they were told, hands stuff in their pockets, causal and inconspicuous. Naruto sees the driver's face screw up in slight confusion; there's a pensive twist of his lips like he's combing his brain to remember if he's seen the two of them before. He follows their path with a slow turn of head, frown pulling deeper and deeper until something clicks. He leans back sharply and goes to address his partner beside him, but it's too late.

 

Neji smashes the driver's side window with his elbow, catching the distracted driver off guard. He grabs the back of his head and smashes it into the steering wheel quicker than the man can react. The goon hazily blinks and groans, fighting to keep consciousness as Neji continues his assault.

 

Shikamaru rushes towards the passenger's side, grabbing the door handle right as the guard tries to get out. The guard tries to catch the door but Shikamaru's quicker; he smashes his fingers that curve around the side so hard that they _crunch,_ no doubt broken from the force of it. His pained and fury-filled yell catches the attention of some passersby on the street, and people begin to scramble as they realize what's happening.

 

Shikamaru makes quick work of silencing him, grabbing him by the neck and twisting it until the bones give way. The guard slumps forward and lays on the dashboard, unmoving.

 

The light changes, but the cars next to them are too busy watching on in startled surprise. Cars honk behind them, unaware of what's happening up ahead.

 

Three things happen at the same time: First, Sasuke throws open the back door, dragging Tayuya out by her hair as she kicks at him, hands scrambling for purchase on nothing before she's thrown to the ground. She raises her hands up to her face as if that'll stop the bullet that tears through them a moment later. Her hands fall with a hard _thump_ and she does not move again.

 

Second, Kiba reaches for the back door but it flies open right as he grabs for it, causing him to stumble back before he quickly regains his balance. That split second is enough for Kabuto to gain the upper hand, and his  knife seems to materializing out of thin air.

 

_—What?_

 

He's not supposed to be here! Why the hell is he with Tayuya, of all people?!? But Naruto doesn't have time to worry about that, especially not when Kabuto grips his knife with purpose and promptly embeds it into Kiba's flank with practiced ease.

 

The air leaves Naruto's lungs in a thundering rush.

 

**_Fuck!_ **

 

(Kabuto aimed for his kidney but narrowly missed. The disappointment that flutters across his face for a split second says that it wasn't intentional to forfeit a fatal blow.)

 

Kiba twitches, eyes wide and searching, legs backpedaling to knock into Shikamaru. Shikamaru's head comes up sharply and a vicious curse leaves his lips. He lurches forward to catch Kiba as he falls, both of them going down in a heap as Shikamaru scrambles to put pressure on the wound.

 

Third, a car flies through the intersection, braking dramatically as it screeches to a stop. A group of Yakushi goons hop out in unison, stupidly opening fire in the middle of the crowded street. The bystanders being screaming and ducking for cover as the bullets wiz past their faces.

 

Word must have finally gotten out that the Yakushi are under attack, or maybe Kabuto or Tayuya _did_ notice them casually walking by before Sasuke and the others caught sight of them. It's hard to say. It's hard to question such things when Naruto's too busy ducking for cover.

 

Shikamaru drags Kiba to the backside of the car, whispering something that Naruto can't quite catch from the mailbox he's taken cover behind. It's something almost desperate, a pleading prayer that sounds suspiciously like: "—Deep. It's not deep." In a voice that Naruto's only heard from him once before.

 

Neji curses colorfully, at both their attackers and Kiba's blood that seeps out between Shikamaru's shaking fingers, returning fire at the same time Choji does. Sasuke's face is black like a storm when he rises from hovering over Tayuya. His eyes lose the sharp focus that he had with Kidomaru—black tints the edges of his expanding pupils and the breath that rattles out him sounds like a bull ready to charge.

 

Naruto's heart skips a beat at the sight of it, and it threatens to stop all together when he sees Kabuto take off running, weaving through the traffic jam they've caused. He flees down a darkened alleyway and none of the others seem to take notice, too busy trying to defend themselves from this new attacking force.

 

Naruto watches his retreating back get further and further away. His mind screams in protest, anger grabbing his neck in such a firm grip that it nearly makes him weeze. He considers—he's not sure what he considers, actually. His thoughts are too jumbled to settle on one thing. But that doesn't matter. What matters is Kiba's barely there, pained whimper that makes him see _fucking_ red.

 

His legs decide for him before his mind can catch up, propelling him upward to do maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done. He runs full speed through the firefight, the luck of fools still on his side because he doesn't get so much as grazed by the flying bullets. Neji chokes on his name as he passes him, eyes blow wide to the size of dinner plates, and he catches the last bit of Sasuke's firey, borderline panicked: "—The _fuck_ are you doing!?!" As he makes his way towards the alley.

 

It hurts like hell to be running like this, but he can't seem to stop himself. He'll probably aggravate his barely healed cuts in his haste, but his chest is tight and his fists are clenched and _fuck this_ , he's not letting him get away. Naruto is only armed with his trusty knife and he's not even sure what he's planning to do if he catches Kabuto, but he'll worry about that in a second.

 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, dialing 9-1-1 as he runs. He all but shouts for an ambulance once he connects with a dispatcher, rattling off the intersection name that he's surprised he remembers. He hangs up right as the woman on the other end asks for his name.

 

He spots Kabuto breaking to breathe right as he puts his phone away, half-leaned on the alleyway wall in a desperate bid to get air back into his lungs. Kabuto turns his head as if on cue, a soft gasp escaping his lips when he sees who's in the darkness behind him. He flinches back at what he sees in Naruto's eyes, cursing under his breath before he takes off again, scrambling to put distance between them.

 

Idiot, Naruto thinks.

 

Never show your back to a beast.

 

Naruto barrels forward with a growl, a black churning inside himself that's clawing its way up his throat as he slowly gains on Kabuto. He feels a rush— a steady drumbeat in his veins that's singing a sorrowful song, the _thump, thump, thump_ starting in his chest and spreading into a ringing in his ears.

 

His lungs burn like hellfire, his legs sting, his eyes are watering because of how fast he's running, but that doesn't stop him from launching himself into the other man's back as hard as he can, sending them both tumbling. The ground becomes the sky—once, twice, and a third time before he's upright again, and he pins Kabuto to the ground with lightning quickness, pressing his cast-covered arm against his spasming throat.

 

Silence, save for their harsh panting. Kabuto stares up at him with a slight squint; his glasses flew off as soon as Naruto tackled him. They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, simply appraising, until Kabuto throws his head back and laughs. A hearty laugh, one that comes from the depths of his chest and makes his whole body shake. The look he gives Naruto is uncomfortably fond, and Naruto presses against his neck harder with his arm.

 

Kabuto's laughter ends in a choke because of the added pressure. He looks away from Naruto's face and his eyes trail down to the cast. Naruto feels himself sneer and he leans in closer.

 

"I owe you blood," He hears himself say, so distant and cold that he's barely aware that it's him who's talking.

 

Kabuto chuckles again, shaking his head mockingly. "That you do," He says around a smirk, eyes dancing under the street lights . "And I always knew you'd come for it. You can't help yourself, can you? Still a pack animal, even though you won't admit it."

 

He's just trying to rile you, Naruto. Just like always.

 

Don't you dare fall for it.

 

At Naruto's silence, he continues, words sharp and cutting. "What? No witty response? That's unlike you, Naruto." He drawls. "Because it's true, isn't it? You can pretend with everyone else, but not with me. I know what you are. Your eyes don't lie. You've always been the worst out of the lot, but you deny yourself by hiding behind the rest of them. "

 

"Shut up," Naruto hisses, rearing back to punch Kabuto in the face hard enough that he spits blood. Kabuto keeps right on smiling and the buzzing in Naruto's head starts to make him dizzy.

 

He shouldn't be here.

 

He was only supposed to _watch_. This is going too far, what he's considering. The way Kabuto's watching him—a knowing, smug look like he knows Naruto better than he knows himself—makes the red haze return to his vision. His muscles twitch and his teeth grind behind his curled lips, baring his teeth like the dog that he is.

 

There's a small, separate part of his brain that screaming for him to leave, to just let him go even though he has him in his grasp. The others would understand if he couldn't do it, wouldn't they?

 

The larger part of him wants to loop his hands around his neck and _squeeze_ **_,_ ** to break him just like he tried to break Naruto. He wants to pay him back for all the blood he spilled, for hurting Kiba, for lying about Haku, for being the snarky little shit that he is and always managing to get under Naruto's skin.

 

"There's no one here but you and me," Kabuto says, tone strangely pleased for some reason. His voice manages to cut through the flood in Naruto's mind but not in a good way. "Are you really going to wait for your friends to come before you do anything, or are you content to sit on me forever? Not that I mind, but surely you're capable of finishing me off yourself? In fact, I know you are, since—"

 

"I said shut up!" Naruto nearly shouts in his face. He feels himself start to sweat. He can't force himself to act, but he doesn't know how much longer he can listen to Kabuto spout his bullshit since it's _pissing him right the fuck off._

 

(This doesn't make sense. Kabuto could probably push Naruto off easily if he wanted since he's not at full strength. Naruto can't, for the life of him, understand why he doesn't.)

 

Kabuto continues like he hadn't heard him. "You've silenced those you didn't like before. It was easy for you. You didn't hesitate then so why now?" Kabuto smiles again, ignoring Naruto's hand tightening around this throat. "Or should we wait? Maybe then I can tell Sasuke what we did. I'm sure he'd love to hear it."

 

Something cold drops in the pit of Naruto's stomach, hard like rock. His throat tightens until the point of pain and his breath catches without meaning to.

 

 _Fuck_. No.

 

No,no,no,no—

 

He can't let him do that. Naruto swore to himself that he'd tell the others when he's ready now that they've agreed to work things out. It's going to be hard enough to say the words when he finally works up his nerve, but he can't imagine how Sasuke or Neji would react hearing it from Kabuto. He can't bear to think of the look on their faces when they finally hear the truth.

 

He's not going to let that happen. It will come from him. No one else. He won't let a fucking Yakushi ruin everything he has _again. He won't fucking allow it._

Kabuto watches his reaction, smiling so hard that his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I thought not." He whispers. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that. I've always liked you best, Naruto. We're alike, you and me, and I—"

 

Why, out of everything he's said, that's what sets Naruto off is anyone's guess. But it does. He feels a cord snap somewhere—twisting and sparking like a downed powerline, writhing with loose ends like a snake in the grass.

 

There's a loose brick near Kabuto's head and Naruto reaches for it before he can stop himself. The smirk drops from Kabuto's face, wide-eyed surprise overtaking it. He opens his mouth to speak, fingers twitching as he prepares to defend himself, but Naruto doesn't give him the chance.

 

"We've never been alike." Naruto says blankly, voice emptier than he's ever heard it. Kabuto stares up at him with the fear of God in his eyes, horror flashing in them due to his severe miscalculation. "I wore this face first."

 

He's not sure how many times he hits him. He cannot hear anything, can barely see what's in front of him. A blind rage consumes him—too many years of holding all of this in, the dam finally breaking with a breathless _woosh_.

 

All he knows how to do is raise his arm again and again—again and again and _again and —_ bashing the brick as hard as he can muster against Kabuto's unguarded cheek. He thinks he might be crying, or maybe it's just the sweat on his brow dripping down his chin. He cannot be sure.

 

Kabuto twitches weakly. His head lulls bonelessly to the side, blood-soaked hair sticking to his face. His breath comes out hollowly, like air through a straw, and one of his eyes spasms and swells purple. Naruto feels his eyes widen as he realizes what he just did. Bile rushes up from his stomach in warning, and he drops the brick to cover his mouth as he forcefully gags.

 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

 

He hears a sudden rush of feet from the other end of the alleyway and echoes of his name on the wind. He  drags his eyes away from Kabuto's bloody face to look. Sasuke and Neji skid to a stop a few feet in front of him, panting from exertion, eyes widening at the scene in front of them. They pause, staring at Naruto with unreadable expressions.

 

He sees them look to each other for a moment, something there that he cannot hope to decipher, and Naruto's certain this time that the wetness on his cheeks is from his hot, horrified tears.

 

"I—" He begins mournfully, but Kabuto rattles out a cough that startles him. Naruto flings himself back and crab walks away from Kabuto's shuddering body. Shit. He didn't kill him—not _quite,_ but he doubts that many blows to the head will leave him breathing for much longer.

 

Fuck. Naruto can feel a panic attack coming with a vengeance. It pulls at the edges of his vision like a vignette. Neji's firm hand on his shoulder is the only thing that stops him from spiralling into the void that so desperately wants to take him. Naruto looks up at him, but no words form on his heavy tongue.

 

Neji stares down at him in silence, still like a statue. He doesn't speak either, and somehow that makes it worse.

 

Sasuke side steps them, going forward to go stand over Kabuto. He stares down at him for a few moments, watching Kabuto as he struggles to breathe. He throws a look over his shoulder—first to Neji, then to Naruto's shaking form. Their eyes meet, and Naruto feels his face crumble further at the lack of judgement in his eyes. There's no disappointment or disapproval in his gaze like Naruto expects; only quiet understanding that rattles Naruto right down to his core.

 

Sasuke pulls his gun from his waistband and aims, shooting Kabuto right in the heart without a word.

 

Naruto barely hears the loud _boom_ despite it's echoing ring. He's too busy throwing up all over the pavement to be aware of much else. Neji holds his hair back as he empties everything inside of him onto the ground. Sasuke comes over and rubs his back for comfort, both of them still saying nothing.

 

**…**

 

He doesn't know what to make of that.

**...**

(He didn't deal the final blow, you see? Only a catalyst, like always. Absolved of sin because Sasuke cleaned up the mess made—

 _Again_.)

 


	12. Twelve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! I had six different drafts of this chapter that all ended completely different (many of them much more negatively than the other so take that as you will :) so I'd really like to know how everyone felt about this chapter if you don't mind! This is also the second to last chapter of this much-longer-than-I-expected tale but don't despair! I'm toying with a sequel and even if that doesn't come for a loooong time I hope you all will enjoy how this ends!

* * *

 

**12.**

 

"He knows all of my secrets

 and still wants to kiss me."

 

Warsan Shire,

  _Excuses Why We Failed at Love_

* * *

 

**A.**

 

The sound of his retching cannot drown out the footsteps that echo down the alleyway. They aren't particularly loud or menacing, but they are unmistakably familiar and distinctive; A certain measured tempo that Naruto can recall floating about on the wooden floors of the Uchiha estate often enough—nearly silent, whisper-like and weightless—only heard whenever the front of the foot leads each step instead of the back.

 

That means Kakashi wanted them to hear his approach, given the way he presses forward with the tip of his boot hitting the ground first. He purposefully gave himself away so he wouldn't alarm them—

 

(it wouldn't be the first time he's snuck up on them at the most inopportune moment. He keeps the best and most secrets in the Uchiha house, that's for certain.)

 

—but Naruto still cannot catch his flinch. Static runs through his entire body like a shiver and he feels Neji and Sasuke stiffen from where they're crouched beside him. It seems uncalled for, their apprehension, because Kakashi's never been a threat to them and that's not about to change now, but in this low light he is not the man he is to them in secret: not the man who ruffles their hair when no one is looking, or who snuck them snacks long after they were supposed to be sleeping when they were little. 

 

No, he is every bit of Fugaku's dog as he stands with his hands clasped behind his back, his one visible eye slowly taking in the scene in front of him. The mask he wears is both physical and metaphorical, since it's as hard as ever to read his reaction. 

 

As usual, he only appears after the deed is done, the die are cast, because he’s strictly told not to interfere unless he’s absolutely needed. Kakashi peels from the dark like the shadow he is, haunting their every step whenever he is given the order, witnessing them in the worst way. 

 

(If Kakashi only steps forward now, Naruto still has no idea what Fugaku consider to be _too far_. And, like before, he’d rather not find out.)

 

Naruto waits on bated breath for him to say something, _anything_ , because the silence is choking him and the electric hum-buzz of the street lights is beginning to hurt his ears. Neji's hand squeezes on his shoulder to the point of pain but he doubts the other man realizes it. Sasuke swallows uncomfortably and squares his shoulders as he waits for Kakashi to speak. 

 

(They are careful not to look at each other because that would somehow feel like an admission of guilt. They’re fully aware that they _fucked this up_ and made a mess of things, but it will always be easier to admit that to themselves than to anyone else.)

 

Kakashi’s gaze travels first to Naruto and his miserable state, then to Neji without blinking, and finally to Sasuke with a slow-climbing eyebrow and a heavy sigh. His mouth pulls down into a frown before he shakes his head solemnly. 

 

“My, my,” He says coolly, closing his eyes briefly as he shrugs. “You boys certainly caused a scene.”

 

His gaze is on Naruto when he says it, not at all subtle with his implications. Naruto doesn’t even have time to take offense to that before Sasuke’s springing up stiffly with red-hot fire in his eyes, pointedly hissing: “Don’t. _I_ made the call to attack Tayuya’s car in the middle of the street. Kabuto was just a fluke, and _none_ of us are going to apologize for it.”

 

Of course not. Sasuke's never apologises for much and he never lets go of his stubborn certainty, so why would he start now? 

 

“Not just you,” Neji says as he stands, throwing Sasuke a hard look. He seems to be more annoyed that Sasuke’s placing all the blame on himself rather than ignoring the fact that they’re both in charge and gave the order. There’s something hopeful in that, but Naruto doesn’t have time to mull over it. “ _We_ saw the chance and we took it. Both Tayuya and Kabuto were slated to die, and now they are dead.” 

 

 _So what more do you want?_ is left unsaid, but they all hear it anyway. 

 

Kakashi nods, considering. He takes note of the barricade Sasuke and Neji have made in front of Naruto’s huddled form on the ground, the way they’ve placed themselves in front of him without  being fully aware of it, and he smiles secretly to himself with a look in his eye that none of them can claim to understand. 

 

“Fair enough,” He says after a while, spreading his palms outward as he acquiesces. “It may have lacked finesse, but it’s finished.” 

 

That should be their motto, at this point.

 

The others quietly deflate at his admission, but Naruto still holds himself completely still for reasons he's not exactly sure of. 

 

Maybe it's because he thinks he knows what the older man is thinking. It's hard to tell, since Kakashi has an expert poker face and has never been one to kiss and tell. Still, even if he doesn’t say, Naruto knows the truth: whenever things go south like this, Naruto is always right in the center of it, blood crusted under his nails but never on his palms. A beacon, a lightning rod of chaos, and no matter how harsh and self-depreciating it sounds, the writing is on the wall:

 

He's the reason this all began, weeks ago and _years_ ago, and now he's just fucking it up worse with each passing day. 

 

Or, Kakashi’s thinking something else entirely. Nothing shows on his face, but there is a strange light in his eyes that’s not as judgemental as it is thoughtful. Maybe he’s absently realized the same thing that Naruto has; if you ignore the last ten minutes of sobbing and vomiting, Naruto actually managed to be what the Uchiha always wanted him to be. A hunter, sniffing out his prey with his nose to the ground before catching it’s neck in his sharpened teeth, _squeezing_ —

 

But he won’t ask and Kakashi won’t offer, so there’s that.

 

“Naruto,” Sasuke says softly, shaking him from his thoughts. Naruto looks up hazily, seeing Sasuke’s offered hand held out to help him stand. Naruto lifts himself on unsteady legs, gripping at the other man’s sleeve to balance himself. He feels so small and feeble, horror stifling any words he could hope to say. Neji sends him a concerned look, but he remains silent. 

 

Kakashi sighs again, shaking his head as he mumbles to himself something they can’t quite catch. When his head comes back up, there’s a stern edge in his voice that’s hard to ignore or disobey. “Sasuke, Neji,” He says evenly. ”Go join the others. There’s still more to be done.”

 

Naruto freezes, sucking in a harsh breath. He understands immediately that he’s meant to be kept here without the others. He’s unsure why, but everything Kakashi does is with purpose, so he wouldn’t have left Naruto’s name out if he meant for him to go with them. The others realize this as well, and Sasuke’s lips part in protest and Neji’s brows furrow in disapproval, but Kakashi holds his hand up to silence them. They bitterly fall silent, waiting for him to finish speaking. 

 

They are wise to, since regardless of their rank in the clan, Kakashi is still Fugaku’s right hand. His eyes and ears. The embodiment of their leader in his absence. 

 

It is rare for Kakashi to put his foot down, even rarer still for him to drop his easy, almost bored manner of speech, especially when talking to them. Whenever he does, it means that he’s assuming command, taking the reins from their sweaty palms since they’re slipped too far between their fingers. Naruto can tell that the others are angry about that, but they won’t argue. 

 

(But that won’t work for much longer. Not with the calculating look in Sasuke’s eyes, not with the air of munity Neji wears like a perfume. Soon enough, they’ll be the ones to decide what the limits are. Kakashi is fully aware of this, and the almost proud look that passes over his features is gone as soon as it came at their barely bitten down refusal.)

 

“Take some of my men with you to go after Dozu,” He continues. “He won’t go down as easy as Tayuya, so prepare yourselves.” 

 

“Understood.” Neji says slowly. It takes a moment, but then Sasuke’s nodding a well. They both turn to look at Naruto but he cannot find it in himself to meet their eyes. Instead, he stares at the ground, hoarsely mumbling: “Go, I’ll be fine.” 

 

He hates how weak he sounds. How weak he _feels,_ bumbling and stumbling over something like this. Kabuto _deserved_ it. He deserved worse, if he’s honest, but no matter how many times Naruto fantasized about ending him he never thought he’d be the one to actually do it. _Sort of,_ since Sasuke was still the one who ended up with a body under his belt.

 

(But Sasuke wouldn’t have caught Kabuto if he wasn’t vulnerable. It was Kabuto’s strange obsession with Naruto that distracted him long enough to get the upper hand. His incessant need to familiarize them, to find common ground, because in the end Kabuto was still just a lonely little boy looking for friends anywhere he could find them. Naruto caught that wiggling snake with both hands when no one else could, simply because Kabuto allowed it. As fucked up as it sounds, he doesn’t give himself enough credit,)

 

Naruto doesn’t have to see either of their faces to know that they don’t believe him. He doesn't either, but It doesn’t matter. They can’t compromise this operation to coddle him. Don't get him wrong—he appreciates their care and concern, but their pitying looks and gentle head pats are hurting him more than they're helping him right now. 

 

Kakashi waves them off impatiently, staring down at Naruto with an unreadable expression. All Sasuke can do is click his teeth while Neji crosses his arms, but they don't linger.  

 

“Oh, by the way,” Kakashi throws over his shoulder before they disappear out of the alleyway. Sasuke half-turns with question in his eyes while Neji only pauses where he stands. Kakashi’s gaze is still firmly on Naruto when he says: “Kiba will live, but that leaves you without a bruiser. One of my men should replace him well enough, but make sure to adjust accordingly.”

 

Naruto feels like he can breath again at his words. So casually said, but the news that Kiba isn’t going to die is music to his ears. He’d been so enraged at Kabuto that all thoughts of his friend fled his mind. He fights not to drop to his suddenly weak knees since the relief that accompanies that statement hits him like a freight train. The same rings true for Sasuke and Neji; something lifts like a curtain over both of their faces, as if they’d forgotten too that he was hurt in the offset of this mess. They both sag briefly before nodding again, stepping out of view a moment later. 

 

Naruto forcefully presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth in a desperate attempt not to burst into tears again. It’s one thing to openly weep in front of his...boyfriends, but Kakashi is a whole other beast. He knows the other man won’t mock him for it, but Naruto’s already lost enough of his composure to last a lifetime. 

 

Kakashi watches him silently, something so familiar in the tilt of his head that it makes Naruto’s chest ache. He folds his hands behind his back once more, his eyes steady and unblinkling, never once looking away. It makes Naruto uneasy and uncomfortable, so he breaks eye contact after a few torturous moments to stare back down at his feet. 

 

He almost sucks his teeth, feeling like he lost somehow even though this wasn’t a competition.

 

(Or was it? He swears he sees Kakashi smirk out of the corner of his eyes, but he can’t be sure.)

 

“Have you calmed down?” Kakashi asks gingerly, gently turning Naruto back towards him by gripping his chin. Naruto resists the urge to pull out of his hold, looking up at him from under his lashes. 

 

“Not really.” Naruto mumbles. He’s still quietly freaking the fuck out but he’s sure that it’s written all over his face. Kakashi nods, lightly passing his fingers over Naruto’s cheek. The touch almost feels affectionate, but the rest of the man is carved from stone so it’s impossible to tell.  

 

“I figured,” Kakashi sighs out, shaking his head. “The first life you take is always the hardest.”

 

Naruto blinks up at him, nearly choking on the hard lump in his throat, his lips parting without sound coming out for a long moment. “I―” He begins, but he’s not sure what he wants to say here. That it wasn’t his fault? That he doesn’t understand why he feels so shitty and guilty when Kabuto brought it on himself? That he’s not a killer, or at least, he never meant to be?

 

But Kakashi only shakes his head again, holding Naruto’s face between his hands to get him to focus. 

 

“It’s done, Naruto. There will be no changing it.” Kakashi says gravely, eyes strangely alight. When Naruto attempts to pull away, his tone sharpens—his mouth twists almost in frustration, and his eyes are piercing when he speaks next, so cold and focused that Naruto can’t help but feel the slightest twinge of fear swirling around in his gut.  “But that guilt you feel? That shame? Remember it, but don’t hold onto it. Leave it here to die with him.” 

 

He forces Naruto to turn his head and look at Kabuto’s still form, gripping him tighter when Naruto struggles harder against his hold. Naruto’s heart thunders in his chest, a shrill sob tickling at the back of his throat as the guilt eats at his insides. He wants to call Kakashi all sorts of names—to curse and claw at him, to bite and thrash like a beast in a cage―but he knows Kakashi isn’t doing this to be cruel. He sees the spiral Naruto’s hurtling towards, the black pit of despair that’s wrapping around his ankles and dragging him under, and he’s going to attempt to free him of these shackles before they truly form in the way only a true Uchiha can. 

 

(Because he’s been in this place before, when Fugaku found him on the street fending for himself as a child. He got the same “pep talk”— the same hand on the back of his head to force him to look at what he’s done, the same grim acceptance that slapped him in the face when he realized he’d have to do it again and again if he wanted to survive. Kakashi has been there before and he’s long-since been perfected, so of course he’d try to steady Naruto when he falls after all these years of straddling the fence.)

 

A valiant, but wasted effort. 

 

How can anyone expect for him to get over this so easily when he’s never gotten over anything that’s ever happened to him?

 

Naruto forces himself to nod like he understands―like this newest horror won’t stick to him like a bad smell, as all the old ones do―hoping that Kakashi will be satisfied with that. The older man seems to be, since he finally allows Naurto to turn away from the body and face him again. 

 

“What did he say?” Kakashi asks suddenly, releasing his grip on Naruto’s face. Naruto blinks in confusion, unsure what he means. “What button did he push that decided it?”

 

It’s eerie how Kakashi’s so keenly _aware_ of things without truly expressing what he knows. So much time spent watching from around dark corners gives him certain insights that most don’t have. Naruto swallows against his suddenly dry mouth. He's not sure how to answer that without revealing too much, but Kakashi’s eyebrow is raised and he’s waiting for an answer, so he knows he has to give him one. 

 

“He said we were alike.” Naruto mutters reluctantly. “That we were the same. He’s been saying things like that for years, so I don’t know why it bothered me so much.” He hazards a look up to see Kakashi’s reaction, surprised to find a fierce look in the other man’s eyes. 

 

“An odd hill to die on,” Kakashi grunts almost angrily, forcefully shrugging. “But at least he’s dead.”

  
At Naruto’s wide-eyed look, he continues, tone smoother than it was a moment before: “Never allow yourself to be categorised by an enemy, Naruto. Especially not by one who’s caused you as much grief as he has.” He pauses briefly, collecting his thoughts before he speaks again. 

 

(A little too much _feeling_ slipped into his words, so he’s careful to quell it.)

 

 He obviously wants to say something more, but he decides against it. “But we have to go. The cleaners will be here soon to handle this, and I need to get you back to the compound before I can rejoin the fray.”

 

The compound? But—

 

“Wait, I can still―” Naruto begins to protest. He’s not sure why. He never wanted to be here in the first place, but he already convinced himself that he could see the night through. He doesn’t want to turn tail and run now that they’ve almost finished their mission. His complicated personality likes to show through at the worst of times. 

 

“No. I’m pulling you out. You’ve had enough.” Kakashi states flatly. He’s not wrong, but Naruto isn’t giving up so easily.

 

(He’s not _weak_ , he’s not a coward. He can do this, goddammit! Maybe not _well,_ but he can do this!)

 

“Kakashi—”

 

Naruto’s objection is pointless since Kakashi won’t budge. He doesn’t even give a verbal response, his only answer being to grab Naruto’s arm so they can march out of the alleyway. Naruto scrambles to keep up with him while the pain in his legs makes itself known again, his prior wounds revolting against more sudden movement. 

 

The sidewalks are dormant once they’re back on the street. All the bystanders are long gone, locked in the safety of their homes with the shutters slammed shut and the locks set tight. Uchiha foot soldiers line each corner of the intersection, armed to the teeth, looking grim and serious as they secure the perimeter.

 

The car driven by Yakushi goons sits smoldering in the road. Their bodies fell not far from it, painted red by a spray of bullets of different shapes and sizes. Naruto’s eyes linger on the  closest body to where Sasuke and the others made their stand—his dead eyes frozen in wide-eyed fear, his jaw blown off its hinges from the gun that was jammed down his throat and fired at point-blank range. Naruto looks away from the carnage, stomach churning in warning at the gruesome sight.

 

(Naruto knows that Sasuke didn’t keep his cool as well as he hoped to, once Kiba got hurt. But he’s not in the place to judge him for it.)

 

Kakashi walks ahead to say something to his men, giving them basic orders to tide them over until he returns. Naruto’s surprised that he’d be left unattended like this, but honestly, where would he go? He’s not sure what direction the others went in, and he’s definitely not going to walk around Yakushi territory alone calling their names. So, he dutifilty stays put, crossing his arms in irritation since he has no choice but to do what he’s told. At least being annoyed has distracted him from being so utterly devastated, so that’s a start. 

 

The look Kakashi gives him when he returns could almost be classified as pity. He ruffles Naruto’s hair gently and Naruto doesn’t hesitate to slap his hand away since he _hates_ being patronized. Kakashi smirks and shrugs, but he doesn’t attempt it again. 

 

They climb into the car that comes to collect them at the same time, and Naruto is tempted to sprawl out on the backseat since he has it all to himself. He’s exhausted, and the gentle rocking of the car once it’s moving almost lulls him to sleep. He forces himself to stay awake, already feeling too much like a child without falling asleep on the fucking car ride home. Kakashi watches him through the rearview mirror from the passenger's seat, raising an eyebrow at Naruto’s stubbornness.

 

“You should try to get some sleep,” He says. “We go after Orochimaru at first light.”

 

Naruto knows that it’s unfair, but he can’t help but petulantly reply: “Oh? You’re actually going to let me be involved? Amazing.”

 

They both know that Kakashi isn’t the deciding factor in that. It will be Fugaku’s call in the end, but once it’s reported that Naruto lost his shit over what happened, Fugaku and Minato both might think it’s best for him to stay behind. He really hopes not, hopes even harder that Kakashi will leave out the major details until after they take down Orochimaru. He knows that’s pretty unlikely, but he’s still going to cross his fingers and pray for the best.

 

Kakashi doesn’t rise to the bait. Of course he doesn’t. The older man is accustomed to Naruto’s tantrums and slick tongue—in truth, he’s probably one of the only Uchiha who can claim to fully enjoy Naruto’s feistiness, even if he doesn’t say. That’s why he only shrugs coolly before he says: “If you want to be.”

 

Does he really?  


The answer can’t be anything other than yes. It will be the finale, after all, the end of this horrible chapter in their lives that felt like a neverending story for far too long.  It’s the principle of the matter above anything else. Maybe once _all_ of the Yakushi are dead and buried, he can finally start to heal. 

 

He doubts it, but it’s nice to dream.

 

“I do.” Naruto replies resolutely. He’s not sure of anything else at the moment, but he’s definitely sure of that. 

 

“Good,” Kakashi says simply, looking away. “Close your eyes, then. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

 

Naruto huffs but he doesn’t argue. He can’t help but tilt his head back against the headrest, the events of the day getting the best of him. He rattles out a heavy sigh and tries to let himself drift off. 

 

It takes a little while, but he does manage to get some sleep before they arrive. And if it had something to do with Kakashi quietly ordering their chauffeur to take the scenic route, then, well—

 

Naruto won’t ask, and Kakashi won’t offer, so there’s that.

* * *

 

  


**B.**

 

Orochimaru’s stay can almost be described as _pleasant_.

 

An odd thing to say, since being locked away in a jail cell is anything but comfortable. 

 

He should be sleeping, but he’s been awake for most of the night for some inexplicable reason, some off feeling churning around in his gut that wouldn’t allow him rest. It has to be close to seven am now, if the slightly orange haze outside his window is to be believed. 

 

He’s been unbothered for these last few weeks—left alone to watch the sun climb lazily up the wall for hours and hours, visited only by a different bored guard each time to inform him that he won’t be released today, either. 

 

Strange, since he expected to be beaten and tortured, or outright killed once they captured him. But Asuma Sarutobi is the one in charge of this station, and he’s smarter than that. Such a cunning man wouldn’t risk the wrath of the Yakushi that would no doubt descend on this place if they found out he’d been killed. Asuma cares too much for the lives of his officers and his clan members, which are mostly one in the same. 

 

Orochimaru cannot relate to that. Not fully. Those that pledge themselves to him know what they must do, what they must sacrifice if he wills it. He does not strive to put his subordinates in harm's way, but makes no effort to keep them away from it, either. They exist to serve him. It’s as simple as that.

 

That’s probably why the Uchiha vex him so thoroughly; Fugaku Uchiha is as ruthless as he is, if not more so, but he holds his underlings in such high regard and doesn’t leash them as he should. He has two powerhouses behind him but never knew how to properly utilize them Itachi is entirely too smart for his own good and more than a worthy foe, and Sasuke? He could do _so well_ if Orochimaru had his way with him. He’d allow the boy to be the beast he truly is, to run wild like he should be able to, without self-prescribed honor and obligation. But a blood-born Uchiha would never step out from under its ranks, so Orochimaru is forced to shake his head and tut from afar as Fugaku wastes the boy’s potential. 

 

They are not the only ones wasted on the Uchiha. The last of the Uzumaki deserves much better than being that clan’s pet. Orochimaru has always coveted Naruto and all his name holds in secret—he could make him into something great, never allowing him to walk away from his birthright as Fugaku did. The Uzumaki used to be the backbone of Konoha, a staple on the streets, and the people here still revere them even as they lay long-dead. Those that would follow Naruto into the depths of hell could have easily doubled the Yakushi’s size—a show of force that would have rivaled the Uchiha’s seemingly endless forces with ease— but sadly, he was never able to convince the boy to stand at his side seeing as he was the reason for Uzumaki clan’s demise in the first place. But such trivialities shouldn’t matter when they could have done _great things_ together. 

 

But the time for that is done. Orochimaru has never been so disrespected, so _inconvenienced_ like this before in his life. Even if they haven't hurt him in any way, he won’t allow this to go unpunished. Naruto and the others will fall with the rest of the Uchiha once he’s free. They’ve gone too far this time, and he’s had enough. 

 

He won’t forgive Asuma as well, as the man had no right to keep him here without charges laid being against him. The thought leaves him boiling inside, because he _knew_ he shouldn’t have left the girls in the hands of addicts like Sakon and Ukon. Kabuto insisted that he should  trust them, and usually his nephew’s judgement is sound, so what need was there to question it? Plenty, apparently, since they thought it wise to snatch the Shukaku girl and Naruto both, leading to all out war that Orochimaru only hears about in bits and pieces. His informants are hard pressed to get past Asuma’s watchful eyes to give him any worthwhile news, so he barely knows what’s going on outside of these walls.

 

And that’s downright infurtating. 

 

Orchimaru can at least trust that Kabuto will hold his own while he’s away. He took such great pains to raise him into the perfect heir and is proud to say that it paid off. Kabuto wouldn’t dare let the Yakushi fall apart without him since he’s also done his damnedest to maintain it. He knows better than anyone that there are no second chances, not with Orochimaru. 

 

He expects sublimity, and more often than not, he’s gotten it. 

 

A key rattles outside of his cell, startling him out of his musings. Orochimaru clears his throat, sitting up straighter on his stiff cot as he waits for the shadow coming down the hall to form into a face. He is fully expecting another featureless guard who’s counting down to the end of his shift, so when it’s Asuma who stands in front of the small window in the door, he finds himself blinking in poorly disguised surprise. 

 

Asuma gives him a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He throws the door open with dramatic flourish, stepping aside as light floods into Orochimaru’s sad little cell all at once. 

 

Orochimaru squares his shoulders and sets his teeth; he quietly prepares himself to take the beating he’s been expecting from the moment he was thrown in here, but even after a few nerve-wracking moments of silence, it doesn’t come. 

 

“What’s this?” Orohimaru asks playfully, his signature sly smirk on full display. “Are you letting me go?”

 

He is not expecting Asuma’s easy answer of: “I am. Get up.”

 

Orochimaru pauses, words failing him for a moment. He thought he’d get more of a challenge, some snide comment to show how much Asuma hates having to do this, but all he gets is a raised eyebrow and an impatient purse of the other man’s lips as he waits for Orochimaru to rise and follow him out of the precinct. 

 

“What kind of game is this?” Orochimaru asks incredulously, carefully crossing the threshold as if he expects a gang of goons to jump him as soon as he turns the corner. But there is no one in the thoroughfare, their only company being the small beams of light peeking through the high windows as the sun begins to rise fully.

 

“No games.” Asuma says dryly, keeping pace behind him. “You’re free to go. We don’t have enough to charge you, so legally I can’t keep you here anymore.”

 

 _Legal_? Ha. That’s proof enough that he’s kidding.

 

“Surely you cannot be serious? You hold me here for weeks without answers, and then expect me to believe that you’re just letting me leave?”

 

“Yeah,” Asuma snorts, humor dancing in his eyes. “Unless you want to stay?”

 

Orochimaru huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. Asuma seems to be serious and he doesn’t understand how. The other man must know that Orochimaru’s planning to retaliate as soon as he gets back to his side of town, so what good does he think could come of this?

 

He’s obviously planning something, but Orochimaru doesn’t care what. He’s sure all of his enemies have some plans for him, but he’ll never give them the chance to strike first. As soon as he’s clear of this place, he’s going to give the order to— 

 

“Don’t you want your belongings?” Asuma asks innocently, shrugging playfully when Orochimaru glares at him.

 

“Keep them.” Orochimaru hisses, not caring for the pocket change they took from him when he was booked. 

 

“Suit yourself.” Asuma replies easily, escorting him to the front of the building. Orochimaru is aware of the eyes on them, but the other officers barely blink as they watch them pass. That makes him uneasy for some reason; a strange juxtaposition, since it was almost a circus when he was first brought in, full of disbelief and excitement when they saw who was being frog-marched into holding cell number four. Such passionless stares cause a cold lump to settle heavily in his gut and he feels sweat begin to pool on the back of his neck. 

 

Asuma cocks his head to the side when they reach the doors, watching him silently. His gaze is almost friendly, but the smile he gives Orochimaru is cold as ice, the tilt of his lips mocking as he says: “Happy trails.” in a sing-song voice that’s wildly foreign coming out of his mouth. 

 

Orochimaru stares at him dryly and resists sneering. He stiffly returns the smile instead, squaring his shoulders proudly as he turns to leave. “Good day, Lieutenant.” 

 

"Oh yeah, it'll definitely be a good day for _me._ " Asuma drawls. 

 

Orochimaru doesn’t have time to respond or fully process that before he received sarcastic salute and the door is slamming shut in his face. He rolls his eyes and begins to descend the steps, his brows furrowing when he swears he hears a lock set into place a moment later.

 

 _What_ —?

Ah.

 

No means of escape, it seems. He wouldn't dare return to the police station for safety, but the option being taken away from him before he had the chance to understand why he'd need it is downright petty. 

 

The sight in front of him causes him to stumble in surprise, almost sending him tumbling down the long staircase he stands at the top of. He hastily steadies himself, quite ungracefully, drawing himself up stiffly to face flood of Uchiha who are crested at the bottom.

 

Fugaku Uchiha stands at the peak of the splayed triangle formation, his hands tightly gripping his heavy oak walking stick that presses against the ground in front of him. He is surrounded by his sons—twin scowls sullying their  delicate features as they stare him down.

 

Neji Hyuga eyes him dispassionately from Itachi’s right and Naruto Uzumaki stands with a curiously blank gaze on Sasuke’s left. Orochimaru is surprised to see him here after all his protest of this life, startled even more when he recognizes Minato Namikaze next to Kushina Uzumaki and Mikoto Uchiha. 

 

The Hyuga girls are here as well, even though they long since left Konoha behind. Hinata’s glare is not nearly as fierce as her younger sister’s, but she has just as much practice quelling her humanity as the rest of them, so she is not here for show.

 

All these old faces, a highlight reel of all he's done and who he's hurt. Together again, after everything. A united front that followed his trails of blood.

 

They mean to end this, then. How quaint. 

 

“This is quite the reception.” Orochimaru hears himself say lightly. He’s in no danger of losing face, even though his traitorous heart skips a beat or two while he forces himself to smile. “Are you all here to celebrate my release? I should have dressed up a little more.”

 

Fugaku’s smile is vacant as it curves on his face, something almost affectionate in his gaze as he watches Orochimaru fight not to squirm. For a long while he doesn’t reply, sharing a long look with Minato before he faces forward once more. 

 

“I’m surprised, Fugaku,” Orochimaru sneers, a little annoyed that no one answers him. He begins to descend the steps slowly, one at a time. He stops right before he reaches the last two steps. The Uchiha in front of him don’t bother to move, not at all concerned about what he could do. They see no threat in him at all and it pisses him off. “This isn’t your style. Too underhanded, don’t you think? Keeping me here so you could have the upper hand.”

 

Fugaku shrugs absently, seemingly unaffected by his obvious goading.  “If a snake gets close enough for me to catch and I miss, it’ll never get close enough again.” He says wisely, his eyes fierce and narrowed. “I had to make absolutely sure that I had the shot before I could strike.”

 

Orochimaru feels a true smile budding on his face without meaning to. He chuckles, shaking in head in rueful mirth. “But like a hydra, if you cut off this snake’s head, two more will simply grow back.” He says confidently. 

 

That's why this stalemate remained. Orochimaru could never strike a fatal blow since the Uchiha are too numerous to count, each one just as crafty and clever and dangerous as the next. Fugaku could never root out every snake in the bush since Orochimaru trained them all to stay perfectly hidden, never claiming their affiliations so they could blend into the general populous seamlessly. 

 

So they might have him in their crosshairs, but that won’t stop the rest of the Yakushi from—

 

Minato raises an eyebrow at him, grimacing slightly when he informs him: “Oh, you haven’t heard? Kabuto’s dead, so that’s one less _head_ to worry about.” in a self-satisfied tone what doesn’t match the look on his face. That’s not surprising. He’s never been one to openly celebrate death no matter who it is that fell. 

 

Like father like son, Orochimaru thinks. 

 

"The Jashinites lost theirs easily enough." Itachi adds lowly, raising an eyebrow.

 

Sasuke smirks, stuffing his hands in his pockets casually as he rocks backwards on his heels. "That's funny, cause Kidomaru, Tayuya, and Dozu had trouble keeping their heads on, too."

 

…

….

….

 

_Oh._

 

He is beginning to understand their confidence, their lack of concern despite coming after him so openly like this. Fugaku fucking left him for _last_. Of course he did; Orochimaru expects no less from that rabid dog. 

 

But he didn’t think the words would hit him as heavily as they do. The lurch in his stomach is so sudden and swift that he has to fight himself not to immediately deny it. They couldn’t have killed Kabuto—No, that’s not possible. Kabuto is no fool. He is not weak either. How could they have caught up with him when even Orochimaru doesn’t know about all the safe houses his nephew has? He's too good at hiding himself, too stubborn and clever to be snared so easily. 

 

Unless—

 

 **No.** He refuses to believe it. They’re only trying to rile him, to get him to lose his careful control and do something reckless. He won’t fall for it.

 

(Except, looking at their faces, he knows it to be true. Sasuke and Itachi are entirely too smug for it to be a bluff, a certain confidence on their faces from confirming it themselves. Naruto, that _little fucking bastard,_ looks enitrely too guilty for him not to be the cause of it.)

 

Orochimaru looks away, eyes tracing the distant horizon for something he’s not sure of. He feels...he is not sure what he feels. Livid, but it’s more than that. Lost, maybe. _Gutted_ is another word that springs to mind. Kabuto was like a son to him, someone he could even dare to say he loved. They say that those living in the shadow of someone else are the least worthy of trust, but Kabuto proved himself to be worthy of his last name a hundred times over. 

 

(He should have been there, when his boy died. He knows it wouldn’t have changed anything, but maybe he would have finally been able to say the words Kabuto wanted to hear from him for so long.)

 

“There’s no one left,” Kushina says stiffly, even though there's a strange sort of sad understanding floating in her gaze. “Only you. We made sure to get every, single one.”

 

“As was owed.” Hanabi mumbles to herself, but the others hear her anyway.

 

As much as Orochimaru would like to argue with that, he cannot. Blood was always going to be repaid in blood, yet somehow he did not expect for that to mean he would lose _everything_. All of them, dead, and he didn’t even know it. Only made aware when the Uchiha had the power to throw it in his face. 

 

They take his silence for what it is: devastation. He’s vaguely aware of the pity that passes over some of their faces, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

 

“I must say that it slipped my mind,” Fugaku says after a long moment, tilting his head sideways to address his followers. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Orochimaru as he mutters:  “We never agreed on who would be the one to finish this.”

 

A quiet muttering descends on the group, softly whispered suggestions floating up to Orochimaru’s ears as he stares at them incredulously. The nerve of them, he thinks bitterly, the unmitgated _fucking_ gall to the discuss something like this so callously, right in front of him. Oh, how he _hates_ them, but he can’t deny that such a tactic is downright frightening and effective. He is subtly quaking, but he’ll be damned if he outwardly shows it.

 

“I could, father. If you’d like.” Itachi offers, clasping his hands behind his back in a way that’s so reminiscent of Fugaku that Orochimaru has to resist laughing wildly and inappropriately. How effectively the man cloned himself, so much so that it's hard to tell the two of them apart in this moment. “Although, everyone here has their own score to settle.”

 

“That we do.” Neji says dangerously, stepping forward. He shares a look with Hinata across from him, their eyes hard and determined as they prepare to offer themselves. Kushina rolls her shoulders lazily, as if she’s preparing to give Orochimaru one of her famous haymakers..

 

Honestly? He’d rather be shot.

 

“Father," Sasuke says softly from Fugaku’s side. His eyes are earnest as he looks up at his father’s face, more open than Orochimaru has ever recalled seeing them. “Let me. I’ll end this for you.”

 

Fugaku stares at him with an unreadable expression. He slowly shakes his head, hesitating briefly before his hand comes up to rest on Sasuke’s cheek. Sasuke’s eyes widen at the sudden display of affection and even from his place on the stairs, Orochimaru can hear how his breath catches as he holds himself completely still. 

 

“No, Sasuke.” Fugaku says mournfully. “I’ve asked that of you for too long. Let me.” There’s something to be said about the look on Sasuke’s face—the unbridaled warmth that floods his features, a slight glow that makes him look his age for once—and the look on Minato’s face that screams of pride, but Orochimaru couldn’t care less. 

 

“Enough of this,” He hisses in disgust. All of them, so frustratingly soft and loving. He’ll never understand it. Don’t they realize that all these ties make them weak? “One of you, I don’t care who, _get on with it_. As heartwarming as this is, we all have placed to be.”

 

Naruto scoffs, rolling his eyes skyward. “I’m sure hell can wait.” He grunts coldly. Orochimaru doesn think he imagines the slight hesitation in the boy's eyes, as if the hate he feels towards him isn't enough to fully justify this to himself. 

 

(That's why Naruto was always so interesting to him. He's entirely too empathetic to be Uchiha, or Yakuza at all really, but somehow also perfect for it.)

 

Orochimaru grins toothily, spreading his arms out wide as he awaits his fate. “Where do you think I came from?”

 

He’s never given much thought to his final words, but Orochimaru thinks that’s not too terrible. The devil always did get the best lines. 

 

Fugaku strides forward without another word, raising his walking stick up to waist level. There’s a hidden button on the side that released a long blade from the bottom, one as old and sharp as they are. Orochimaru absently watches as it buries itself in his chest, his breath leaving him in a stuttering halt. He raises his eyes up to meet Fugaku’s, not at all surprised to find the other man watching him dispassionately. 

 

There is no cruelness in Fugaku’s gaze. He probably feels nothing in this moment—not regret, not anger, not even hate or victory. Nothing, since he did what he had to. He always has. With this, he ends it, so for good measure Fugaku twists the blade deeper into Orochimaru’s chest and follows him down as he collapses on the stairs. 

 

Fugaku leans in close so the others cannot hear. He gets right up next to Orochimaru’s ear before he pulls his blade out and wipes it clean on Orochimaru's sleeve. 

 

Tch. Bastard. 

 

“I’d leave you with your dignity,” Fugaku mutters almost apologetically. Orochimaru feels his eyes widen as he chokes on the blood in his throat, unable to stop himself from tracking the movement of the blade as it settles upon his neck. Fugaku pauses and turns so he can lock eyes with Minato over his shoulder. 

 

There’s a slight pause as they stare at each other, something dense and heavy passing between them to fill the silence. It’s only seconds before turns back, but when he does Fugaku’s eyes are black, small tendrils of satisfaction finally seep into his gaze like ink  spreading on a page. “But I did promise him your head.”

* * *

 

  


**C.**

 

 _Crackling—sharp and loud like crushing paper in your palm. The twins lay in a heap on the ground, facedown, blood highlighting their hair in long, strangely neat stripes. The matching bullet holes in the back of their skulls are the size of his fist. Just another thing they share in the end. Their bodies burn lightning quick, the smell—_ oh God, the smell , _sticks in his nose for days, after—_

 

 _—Naruto watches his fingernails disappear one by one with a detached calmness that scares him. He is bubbling underneath; He wants to cry and scream and beg and_ **_fight_ ** _but he is helpless against this torment. There's a buzzing in his head, a steady whisper behind his calming mantras to keep himself from breaking: "_ **_He will die here_ ** _," It says._ **_He will die here, he will die here, he will_ ** _—_

 

 _—Suigetsu coughs violently in between his begging; a tragic, choking-rattling in his throat that shakes his whole body with the force of it. His face is stained with tears and blood as he sobs out apologies for things he's not even sure he did. His eyes connect with Naruto's for a split second before his head snaps to the side with a sickening crunch, the high-pitched_ " Help me _!"_ _cut short as he bites his own tongue—_

 

 _—Kabuto laughs at him with mismatched features, openly mocking him with empty eyes and a too wide smile._ "With all the secrets you keep, you would have made a perfect Yakushi," _He says sweetly. A shadow slowly covers his face until nothing but his mouth remains; it's full of canines like that of a wolf._ _"_ Now they'll **_never_** know, will they? _"_

 

Naruto gasps as he sits up, kicking off the blanket that sticks to his legs. He's drenched despite how lightly he's dressed, and the stale scent of sweat that floats up to his nose makes him frown in disgust. 

 

Sasuke’s hand grips at nothing when Naruto carefully shimmies out of bed to go to the bathroom but he doesn’t seem to stir. Neji’s brows furrow unhappily, but it seems he’s too exhausted to be woken up either. 

 

Of course neither of them wake up. Those in the Uchiha house have been awake for almost two days straight now; Between the drama of the summit, the deadly night that followed, the stand they made at the police station, and then Sasuke’s group breaking away to go visit Kiba in the hospital has left them tapped out.

 

(“Fuck!” Kiba exclaimed the moment he saw them, shaking his fist dramatically at the ceiling. “I _missed_ it?! Goddammit! Give me a blow by blow, and you fuckers better not spare any details!”)

 

It was already noon when the lot of them got back to the compound _—_ forced to leave Kiba’s side only because people like them don’t do too well in hospitals. It’s way too conspicuous _—_ and the minute they crossed the threshold, Itachi suggested that _everyone_ take a well deserved nap with a barely suppressed yawn. Everyone from Kushina to Kakashi agreed, and all the curtains in the house were quickly drawn to block out the noonday sun. 

 

Naruto checks his watch as he tiptoes to the bathroom, noting that it’s closer to four now.

He only made it about three hours before his dreams so rudely woke him up from an already fitful sleep. Naruto sighs and splashes water onto his face, staring blankly into his puffy, red-rimmed eyes. He can’t tell if they are red because he’s still lacking sleep or because he’s been crying. Probably both.

 

How foolish of him to think that his trauma would magically disappear just because his enemies are dead. That’s not how anything works and he _knew_ that, but for some reason he really tried to convince himself that maybe it would. Probably because he’s so _sick_ of feeling like this, so sick of being guilty and sad over matters long passed, so tired of everything aching long after he’s supposed to be healed. 

 

Now that all this is finally over _—_

 _(—_ Right? For some reason,

 that’s frustratingly unclear )

 

He should go to a therapist. _Seriously_ this time, because he tried to not long after moving in his father but he chickened out in the waiting room. The panic attack that followed as he power-walked back to the car only served as icing on the cake. This time he’ll definitely get his money’s worth since he has _plenty_ of shit to fill that hour.

 

 Yeah, that’s what he’ll do, because he _will not_ allow a good night’s sleep to be taken away from him, too. No sir. He’s just going to have to sort all this out as soon as possible.

 

(It’s not that simple and most likely won’t go as smoothly or quickly as he’d hope, but he appreciates his own tenacity.)

 

Naruto ruefully shakes his head as he hops in the shower, mind elsewhere as he absently scrubs the last two days off of his body. He hisses when he reaches his legs, both of them sore as all hell from all the running and tackling and general foolishness he pulled yesterday. Luckily none of his wounds have reopened, but that ever-present limp seems worse than before when he steps out to dry himself off. 

 

Great. Yet another thing to deal with while he figures out what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

 

The answer to that should be easy, right? He said he would stick around long enough to finish this, and he’d leave once everything was all said and done. Haku’s safe, the girls have been returned home, Kabuto and the Yakushi are dead _—_

 

(There may still be a few stragglers, but not for much longer. Orochimaru was right when he said the Yakushi are slippery and know how to hide themselves, but the Uchiha are nothing if not thorough.)

 

So what other reason is there for him to stay? 

 

Well, that’s a stupid question, isn’t it? The bed just outside the door is filled with reason enough.

 

Naruto sighs again, wiping a hand across his face while he mentally kicks himself for being so goddamn stupid. He knew this would happen. He fucking _knew_ it. As soon as he accepted his feelings and agreed to be with both of them, tt was never going to feel right to just _leave._  

 

Especially when they haven’t had the chance to talk about anything important. Now that the Yakushi are gone, now that this horror has passed and they have a moment before some other foe or folly inevitably rises, won’t they have to? Since they had to strike right after the summit, Naruto never got the chance to talk to Neji about the fate of their clans and their distinct lack of heirs. 

 

Does Neji want kids? And If he does, how would they go about that?

 

 What about Sasuke? What does he want out of the future?

 

Hell, what does _Naruto_ want? He’s never given it much thought besides _stay the fuck away from Konoha_ , but now that’s not so cut and dry anymore, either. 

 

Why does life have to be so incredibly complicated? Isn’t he owed a happy ending, one where they ride off into the sunset and all of this is magically forgotten by the time the credits roll? Who can he talk to about this?!? 

 

Naruto steps back into the bedroom without bothering to get dressed. He doesn’t feel like waking either of them up to keep him company, so he just throws on a bathrobe and avoids going back to bed, choosing instead to go sit on the small balcony attached to Sasuke’s room. 

 

The summer sun isn’t going to set anytime soon and the afternoon heat is somewhat comforting when he gets outside. He knows from experience that the wicker furniture is comfortable, having occupied it many times before, but for some reason he chooses to sit down on the ground with his back against the railing, tilted his head back and closing his eyes as the sun’s rays warm his skin. 

 

That’s how Sasuke finds him a long while later, bare feet padding gently across the floor to stand in front of him. Naruto blinks up at him hazily, not realizes that he’d fallen asleep again.

 

“You okay?” Sasuke asks him softly, staring down with concern in his eyes. He probably thinks that Naruto’s in the midst of a breakdown and that’s why he’s curled in on himself on the ground, which he is, but Naruto appreciates that he doesn’t mention it. 

 

“I guess.” Naruto answers with a shrug. It’s not exactly a lie, not the truth either. He’s a little better than he was last night, but he hasn’t been “okay” for years now.

 

Sasuke nods sagely, looking away to stare at the trees in the yard without really seeing them. “Nightmares?” He questions. When Naruto blinks up at him in surprise, he continues with a lazy shrug. “You were mumbling earlier and you kept kicking the shit out of me, so it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

 

Naruto chuckled despite himself, mumbling out a quick apology. Sasuke waves it off easily, pausing afterwards like he’s not sure what to say. 

 

Naruto doesn’t know what to say either, since the two of them actually _talking_ things through is still a revolutionary concept. They used to understand each other without having to say much, or at least, they thought they did. Their relationship wouldn’t have been nearly as strained if they stopped to have a few serious conversations once in awhile, but he spent enough time beating himself up over it. It’s more important that they can have them now, and Sasuke seems like he wants to _try_   just as much as Naruto does, so that’s why he offers up:

 

“I have them too, sometimes.” Sasuke swallows hard after that honest admission, eyes slowly sliding back into focus so he can look at Naruto. “About you, about...being in solitary confinement, about Hizashi-san on really bad days. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Naruto looks down at his lap, nervously twiddling his fingers.  He can relate, because he’s seen Hizashi’s dying smile and shuddering last breath more times that he can count when he closes his eyes. The memory never got easier, only crinkled around the edges as he got older and little details about the day began to fade away. He can’t remember exactly what game they were playing or what snack they were eating, but he remembers Neji’s tear-stained face and rattling sob like it was yesterday. 

 

“It wasn’t that. Not this time, at least.” Naruto replies, biting his lip. He wants to ask about why Sasuke has nightmares about him, but he can’t bring himself to. He thinks he knows the answer, anyway.

 

Sasuke slowly lowers himself to Naruto’s level, crossing his legs and tucking his hair behind his ear. He takes Naruto’s hand tightly as if encouraging him to continue.

 

“I...see knives coming towards me and I know they're going to cut me, but I can’t move. I can’t run and I just have to let it happen over and over again.” Naruto begins without meaning to. He hadn’t told anyone about what happened while he was captured, too sick at the thought of having to relieve it for even a moment. But suddenly it’s all coming out in a stumbling rush, a strange catharsis overtaking him as he says the words, especially since Sasuke only nods along and lets him talk. He finishes the whole story of his kidnapping in minutes, following up with his haunting dreams. “....And then, having to watch them burn ...it seared itself into my brain. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop seeing that.”

 

Sasuke stares at him silently after his latest confession, squeezing Naruto’s hand almost painfully in comfort. “I, shit.” Sasuke rattles out, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “I really can’t think of anything to say that’s reassuring, Naruto. I’m sorry. That’s really fucked up.” 

 

It’s not funny at all, but Naruto finds himself laughing at Sasuke’s honesty. Sasuke chuckles lowly at his reaction, but he still looks apologetic for not having the words to say. He’s never been one to comfort with words and Naruto didn’t expect that to change overnight, 

 

(But this? This is nice. Somewhat mortifying and embarrassing to bare his soul like this, even rendering Sasuke speechless, but it’s nice.)

 

“It’s okay,” Naruto says lightly, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t know what to say, either.” Then softer, after he sobers, he mumbles: “It’s just good to talk to you.”

 

Sasuke smirks softly and nods. “Yeah, I missed this.” He says quietly, face coloring slightly at how open that was. At least they’re in the same boat, dancing around how much they care about each other in a poor effort to play it cool. Kinda hard to do that when they’re officially dating now, but whatever.

 

That’s probably why Naruto has the courage to say what he says next. If there’s anyone who understands where he’s coming from, it’s Sasuke. He’s sure the other man will be disappointed in him, probably even angry, but all this guilt is eating him alive and 

he needs to finally _say_ it if he wants them to move forward. He can’t build this into something beautiful if he hasn’t admitted to the one thing that haunts him the most. 

 

“That’s not all I dreamed about,” Naruto begins hesitantly, forcing himself to keep eye contact. Sasuke raises an eyebrow and curls their fingers together tighter, tilting his head to silently allow Naruto to continue. “I dreamed about Kabuto, and Suigetsu too.” 

 

Sasuke stiffens, blinking slowly as his face wipes clean of an expression. _Shit,_ Naruto thinks. Maybe this is a bad idea. 

 

No, no, he _has_ to. He distantly thinks that should wait until Neji wakes up so he doesn’t have to say this twice, but he can't stop himself. “Look, Sasuke, there’s something I should tell you _—”_

 

“I already know, Naruto.” Sasuke says evenly. Casual and nonchalant, if not for the intense look that dilates his pupils as he stares deeply into Naruto’s eyes. 

 

There’s a strange choking sound in the back of Naruto’s throat before he hastily clears it, surprise grabbing him by the neck and refusing to let go. _What?_ He can’t possibly know what Naruto was about to say. He can’t, because there’s no way Sasuke wouldn’t have said something before now. He’s never been that subtle or tactful, and beyond that, how would he know? _Who told him_? Who else even knew, besides Kabuto? Did that rat bastard fucking _—_

 

“I told you before, didn’t I?” Sasuke mutters like he doesn’t see the way Naruto’s quietly imploding. “I had a lot of time to think while I was locked up. I put two and two together a long time ago, but there was never a right time to bring it up.”

 

 _Especially since you weren’t taking my calls_ is left unsaid, but Naruto hears it anyway.

 

“Sasuke, I—” Naruto tries desperately, but Sasuke holds up his hand to stop him. 

 

“I treated you like shit, Naruto, so I understand why you did what you did.” Sasuke says roughly, shaking his head at himself. “I really do. That won’t make it right, but I _get it._ I can’t apologize enough for that. I treated you like you were disposable, like you didn’t mean the world to me, and when I thought about everything that happened before Suigetsu attacked you and what he said when I had him on the ground, one day it all just...made sense.”  

 

Naruto feels like he can’t breathe. Words fail him for a long while, shock and horror robbing him of anything he could hope to say. All this guilt, all this anguish, all those pains he went through to hide this secret and Sasuke _already fucking knew?_ What kind of shit is that!?!

 

He flounders for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish before he can finally form a vowel. “Oh.” is what he ultimately settles on, because his mind is hurtling through space and he can barely focus on anything. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. Certainly not relieved, because he actually feel worse knowing that all the hoops he jumped through were for naught. 

 

Sasuke leans forward carefully, brushing his fingers across Naruto’s scarred cheek. He can feel the love through his fingertips.  “I know you didn’t know how to tell me because you were scared of how I’d react. I’ll admit, when I first realized that you teamed up with Kabuto I was pissed, but eventually I understood why.”

 

“Is that what Suigetsu told you while you guys were alone?” Naruto can’t help but ask, the strangest urge to cry bubbling up in the worst way. Is it that strange, though? He feels like he’s been slapped in the face with this information, this easy acceptance from Sasuke when he was so convinced that this news would ruin everything they have. 

 

“No,” Sasuke mutters with a stiff shake of his head. “He only said that you started it while I was chasing him and that ‘You aren’t as innocent as everyone makes you out to be.’ I figured that was his way of trying to save himself, but what he said stuck with me for some reason.”

 

Naruto must have missed that while he was still stumbling down the stairs to follow behind them. He only caught the tail end of Suigestu’s desperate pleading before Sasuke began to hit him, so who knows what the other boy would have said next. Maybe this would have came out years ago if Suigetsu had the chance to finish. 

 

“I only figured out everything with Kabuto when you came back,” Sasuke continues, finally averting his eyes. “I always thought that he liked you and he acted like an asshole because of it, but after you left he only got worse. He was so smug like he knew something I didn’t, and then I realized that he probably did.”

 

Well, Naruto certainly doesn’t give Sasuke enough credit. That’s what he gets for thinking of him as only the brawn. He’s still an Uchiha after all, just as clever and smart and dangerous as the next one. He had more than enough clues to paint a pretty picture for himself. 

 

( _“You seem surprised.” Sasuke had said blandly. “Did you think what we wouldn't know what was going on inside our own territory?”_ )

         

“I’m sorry.” Naruto manages to say, throat croaking and catching on his words. The dam finally breaks, and Sasuke gently passes his thumb under his eyes to wipe his tears away. “I’m really fucking sorry, Sasuke. If I hadn’t set him up, you wouldn’t have—”

 

“It’s okay, Naruto.” Sasuke mutters seriously. His eyes are open and sincere, no hint of doubt chasing his words. “It’s okay. We both have done plenty of things we regret. I’d be a hypocrite if I held that against you. There’s nothing else that you can do about it and I already forgave you, alright? Now you just have to forgive yourself.”

 

(That means something heavy coming from Sasuke. He’s more than familiar with attempting just that.)

 

Naruto all but springs into his arms, crying harder when Sasuke wraps his arms around him tightly and pats his back. They stay like that for a long time, Naruto sobbing out all those years of guilt onto his solid shoulder. Sasuke simply holds him like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, rocking them back and forth slowly until Naruto is able to calm down. 

 

There’s a slight creak behind them near the open doorway and that's the only warning they get that they aren’t alone. Naruto looks up through his tears, catching sight of Neji leaning lithely against the doorframe. His face is expressionless, carefully blank if not for the curious look in his eyes that says he may have been here for longer than either of them were aware of. 

 

“Sorry,” He says with a slight grimace. “I noticed that you two were gone and came to investigate. I can go if you want.” He offers easily, standing up straighter. Naruto shakes his head at the same time Sasuke pivots his body to regard him. In a move that surprises two out of the three, Sasuke holds his hand out to Neji and beckons him closer. Neji it with a cocked brow and a hesitant smile, only for it to end in a squawk when Sasuke tugs him down roughly to ground level. 

 

Neji narrowly avoids faceplanting, steadied only by Sasuke’s arm curving around him so that both he and Naruto are half-sprawled over Sasuke’s lap. Neji huffs, opening his mouth to complain and protest, but then Sasuke’s quietly mumbling :“C’mon, group hug.” in a sweetly awkward but firm voice. 

 

Naruto chuckles softly, grateful that Sasuke is doing his best to include the three of them as often as possible. Neji smiles warmly, curling his arm around Naruto first and then shifting closer so he can reach around Sasuke, too. They don’t speak for a long time, leaning on each other as the clouds pass and distant birds chirp around them, Naruto can’t completely relax. He knows that Neji probably heard what he said, that’s why He finds himself turning to ask:

 

“How much did you hear?” in a tone that’s as non-accusatory as possible. It’s not like Neji was spying on them and they didn’t try to keep their voices down, so he probably couldn’t help but overhear. And even if he did, Neji’s kind enough to pretend like he didn’t. 

 

Neji doesn’t answer immediately, choosing his words carefully before he’s replying: “Enough.” He looks away, squeezing Naruto’s shoulder before he adds: “But if you want to tell me yourself I’m still willing to listen.”

 

Naruto rattles out a contented sigh, feeling so warm and whole and _loved_ that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Okay.” Is all he says, and Neji nods with a brilliant smile. 

 

Naruto doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this nice atmosphere they have going, especially not with all the matters he still feels that they need to speak about. Maybe tomorrow, when all of this feels real. When he knows for sure that everything is _over_ and not just some elaborate dream. There’s still so much they have to work out between them, but this is a great start. 

 

Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock on the door, and Fugaku’s voice floats over to where they sit, hesitantly asking: “Is everyone...decent?” 

 

The others must have woken up from their naps as well. It is starting to get late in the evening and Naruto’s stomach rumbles low from a lack of food. He hopes that they’re being called down for dinner. 

 

Neji stands with a chuckle, dusting off imaginary dust from his pants so he can stride over and open the door. Naruto looks down at himself and his bathrobe, shrugging because it will have to do. Sasuke follows them up with a raised eyebrow and slightly annoyed twist of his mouth as he waits for his father to enter. He probably wanted to stay wrapped around each other for a little while longer, but they’ll have time to be alone again soon enough. 

 

It’s both Fugaku and Itachi on the other side of the door, innocently blinking while they subtly look the three of them over for any signs of funny business. Naruto bites down a smile and resists rolling his eyes. 

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Itachi says seriously. He doesn’t look the least bit sorry. He looks downright gleeful that his father is teetering uncomfortably since he didn’t know what state he’d find them in. 

 

Itachi is addressing Sasuke directly when he says: “There are some things we need to discuss now that this business is finished. Meet us downstairs when you’re ready.” 

 

“That includes you as well, Neji.” Fugaku nearly whispers, staring at his adoptive son with an unreadable expression. Neji blinks, a sweetly confused look of surprise crossing his face before he smothers it and nods at the floor, his fingers curling tightly on his pant leg. Such a simple thing, such an easy inclusion that seems to overwhelm him for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything more.

 

“Alright. We’ll be down in a minute.”  Sasuke says quietly, mindful of the mood in the room.  He starts looking around for a shirt to throw on, only dressed in pajama pants and nothing else. 

 

Itachi eyes Naruto pointedly, raising an eyebrow at his similar state of undress. “Please put some pants on at least, Naruto,” He says playfully. “That robe is cut high and I really don’t want to see your balls at dinner.” 

 

At least that gets a chuckle out of everyone, breaking the odd tension that rose in between them. Naruto flicks him off goodnaturedly and Itachi winks at him. They share a secret smile as Fugaku hastily retreats without another word. 

 

The old man still has to get used to all this emotion, not to mention his son’s new delicate relationship status. At least he’s accepting of it, for the most part. Naruto can’t ask for more than that. 

 

Like many things that they’re going to have to work through _—_

 

_Together—_

 

It’s certainly a good start. 

  
  



End file.
